Flashpoint
by Lieutenant Caine
Summary: It only takes a spark to ignite an inferno.  Rating is now an M.
1. Chapter 1

**Flashpoint**

Lieutenant Horatio Caine stood on the front steps of the Miami-Dade Police Department Headquarters in his familiar stance, hands on hips, head ducked slightly. A brisk Miami breeze ruffled his hair, giving him a rakish look, and the sun glinted off the trademark sunglasses he always wore. With an impatient gesture he took them off and turned to look directly into the eyes of his waiting team.

"Twenty-four hours and our guy is still in the wind, people, let's get back to work," he said, seething frustration evident in his every word. The brutal carjacking and subsequent murder of the driver had left him with an intense drive to catch the thug responsible. Horatio Caine wouldn't stop until the guy was behind bars and off the streets of his beloved Miami. The case was obviously bothering him, but there was something else underneath, a fine undercurrent of tension that had made him a force to be avoided in recent days. His voice had become a whiplash, falling on the ears of his team with cutting force.

"Eric," he snapped, "I want you and Calleigh here working on the car. Wolfe, you and Natalia go back to the crime scene. We've missed something somewhere. I want you two on trace evidence. Look at everything again. Frank and I will go visit the vic's wife."

With assignments given out, he turned and strode toward the Hummer with Frank trailing behind him. Tightly controlled emotion was evident in every forceful step Horatio took. He jerked the driver's door open and settled himself behind the wheel, waiting impatiently while Frank lifted himself into the vehicle and fastened his seatbelt. No words were exchanged as Horatio put quickly put the Hummer into gear and sped out into the snarling Miami traffic. They had driven several miles before Frank's Texas drawl broke the stony silence.

"You wanna tell me what's eating you, Horatio? And don't give me some crap about this case. Something else has gotten under that thick skin of yours."

Horatio's hands tightened noticeably on the steering wheel and he muscles of his jaw spasmed with the clenching of his teeth. He did not turn to look at Frank when he growled, "I'm fine, Francis. But thank you for asking."

"Right," Frank snorted, "you are so on edge a blind man could see it. Come on man what's bothering you?"

"Frank, I won't tell you again…I'm FINE. Just a personal matter I have to work through." His tone left no room for argument.

"Okay, big man, but if you want to get it off your chest, I'll listen," Frank responded.

Horatio made no answer to that comment and retreated further into his moody silence. His thoughts began to swirl. Once again he found himself thinking of _her,_ much to his irritation. His mind insisted on taunting him with snippets of her voice, visions of her beautiful face, the liquid flow of her golden hair, those perfect lips he longed to kiss, and the curves of her luscious body just begging to be caressed. He groaned mentally and tried to stop thinking along those lines where his ballistics expert was concerned, but had no success. Every double entendre and flirty comment they had shared in the past played itself over and over in his head until he was tense and vibrating. It was as though a caged panther stepped from the driver's side of the Hummer when they finally arrived at the home of the carjacking victim. Frank braved a sideways glance at the head of CSI and just shook his head as he and Horatio walked the short distance to the front door.

Their second interview with the grieving widow produced nothing more than they had gleaned from her the first time they had spoken with her. Her story hadn't changed and Horatio was inclined to believe her when she again claimed that she had no idea who would want to murder her husband. Almost an hour later, they left her with assurances that the CSI team was doing everything in its power to apprehend her husband's killer.

Back in the Hummer, Frank noticed that Horatio was still tense, worse than he had been on the ride out. He wondered what the source of the redhead's agitation was but when Horatio Caine decided not to talk, there was no forcing him. Frank knew he'd never get anything out of him until he was good and ready to talk on his own. They made small talk all the way back to CSI headquarters, but nothing of significance surface that gave Frank any clue to Horatio's discomfort.

XXXXX

Alone in his office Horatio paced restlessly back and forth, struggling to force his thoughts into submission and failing miserably. Finally in a rare show of frustrated anger, he threw himself down on the couch in the corner and placed both hands over his eyes as if to block out the sensual thoughts that tormented him.

"Calleigh…Calleigh…" he groaned softly "If only…"

That display of weakness, even though unwitnessed by anyone but himself, made him even angrier, and he balled his hands into tight fists, pressing them to his temples then jerked them away and stood abruptly from the couch.

"Enough Caine!" he ground out, furiously addressing himself. "Forget her. She's way out of your league."

XXXXX

All eyes turned in the direction Lieutenant Caine's office when the door literally exploded open and the head of CSI stormed out.

Becky, the receptionist gave a low whistle and commented under her breath, " I'd sure hate to be on the receiving end of that foul mood. Wonder what has him in such a snit?"

Little did she know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Flash 2**

The CSI pairs were working earnestly on their respective assignments when Horatio came calling on each of them. Ryan and Natalia had discovered a shell casing that had somehow been missed the first time they worked the scene. Natalia's sharp eyes had noticed it wedged between the seams of the concrete in the parking lot of the gas station. They were able to recover not only a workable fingerprint form the casing, but also a small amount of seared skin that would give them a DNA profile. Horatio brusquely complimented them on their good work and left them to their analysis.

"Man, I'd hate to be the one he's sore at," Ryan quipped after the door had closed securely behind the suit clad back of their boss.

"Tell me about it," Nat agreed. "He's been like that for days."

XXXXX

The garage was Horatio's next stop, where he found Eric and Calleigh still going over the car. Eric was head down in the back seat taking swabs for trace amounts of biologicals of any kind. Calleigh was standing at the back bumper, one hip resting against the side of the car, taking the swabs that Eric handed out to her. He said something amusing from inside the car, and Calleigh laughed, a musical sound that threaded its way through Horatio's senses, setting him on fire with fresh longing. Just for a moment, he allowed his hungry eyes to devour the scene before him. Her face was open and happy, her lips were curved in a brilliant smile and her hair rippled along her back like liquid gold. Horatio fought the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless right then and there. Instead, he cleared his throat once to alert them of his presence and stepped toward them.

"Eric, what have we got?"

Eric emerged from the backseat of the car, looking slightly disheveled. "I'm not sure, H. There's not enough blood here. I'm thinking body transfer. Maybe our vic was shot somewhere else and then put back into the car after he died. Wasn't the car found about 10 miles from the original crime scene?

Horatio nodded. "Yes, it was Eric. You could be right about a body transfer. Keep me posted."

He turned to leave, but stopped when Calleigh called to him.

"Horatio…I got a hit on IBIS. The bullets we recovered from the car are a match for the .35 that was used last month in the homicide out by Dade U."

He nodded his head again and commented back over his shoulder, "Good work, Calleigh." He didn't trust himself to say more at the moment or to look at her. She noticed the deliberate coolness he showed but said nothing. Biding her time, she watched until his retreating figure had left the garage and then turned to Eric, who had once again disappeared under the backseat of the car.

"Eric…Eric, come back out here. I need to talk to you."

Eric's head appeared upside down from under the back passenger seat and Calleigh giggled in spite of the ripples of anxiety that were coursing through her after Horatio's dismissive behavior toward her.

"What? I look funny or something?" Eric laughed.

"Or something. Seriously , Eric…do you have any idea what's going on with Horatio lately? He's been so sharp and irritable, it's almost like he's angry at something or someone."

"Yeah, I've noticed. The whole team has noticed."

"And?" Calleigh prompted when he did not immediately go on with his observations.

"Well…I've noticed something else too."

"Oh, sweet heavenly day, do I have to drag it out of you Eric?" Calleigh was growing exasperated with Eric's continued stalling to avoid a direct answer.

"Okay, Cal, but remember, you asked." Eric warned her.

"I'm waiting…"

"I've noticed that it's worse when he's around you, Calleigh." Eric flinched when she looked as though she was about to retort angrily.

"You asked, remember? I'm just telling you what I and several of the others have noticed when H thought we weren't paying attention. Sometimes he just looks like he wants to…" Eric trailed off when he saw how agitated Calleigh was becoming. "Hey," he said, "I didn't mean to upset you, Cal. It's probably just our overactive imaginations at work here. Forget I even mentioned it, eh?"

"No, I think you could be right, Eric. I need to go talk to him. If I've done something to upset him, I need to know what it is so I can correct it. I'll be back later, okay? Are we still on for dinner tonight?"

"Sure thing. I know a great little Cuban restaurant you'll love," he said with a smile. "Better than my own mother's cooking. Later, Cal. I'll call you."

_I wonder what I've done to upset him so badly,_ Calleigh thought. _Maybe it has to do with the last time I had to go dig daddy out of that watering hole. Oh, well. Might as well go face the music and get it over. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Flash 3**

Calleigh headed back upstairs and into the office section of CSI headquarters. This late into the evening, almost everyone had gone home, but there was still a light on in his office. She'd known there would be. Suddenly she was nervous without knowing why. This was her LT, the man she'd worked with for five years now, the man who'd put himself in danger to protect her more times than she was comfortable thinking about. "For Pete's sake, Calleigh," she scolded herself, "It's Horatio. No need to be nervous." She knocked on his door and then opened it just enough to stick her head through.

"Knock, knock, knock," she called softly.

Horatio put down the file he'd been reading, stood up and motioned for her to come in. "Do you have good news for me?" he asked, his blue eyes skittering everywhere but her face.

She became acutely aware of his disquiet, and stubbornly decided she wasn't leaving until he'd told her what was bothering him. "No Horatio, I don't have good news for you. I came to talk to you."

At that comment, his blue eyes locked with her green ones and she knew she had hit a nerve. There was a dangerous glitter in his eyes. Anger, irritation, and something else flickered across his face and just as quickly disappeared. All these things registered in Calleigh's mind in a heartbeat and she weighed her next words and actions very carefully. She crossed the office space to stand next to his desk and looked him square in the eyes, daring him to look away from her probing gaze.

Gently she spoke, "What's wrong, Horatio? You've been on edge, tense as a bowstring and snapping people's heads off for no reason. I know this case has been brutal, but this is something more isn't it; something more deeply personal."

"Calleigh," he growled out between clenched teeth. "This is nothing you need to be concerned with."

"But I am concerned, Horatio. That's what friends do. They care when someone close to them is upset or unhappy. Let me help, please."

His next words shocked her. "You need to leave, Ms. Duquesne….now, please."

Without really knowing why, she answered him very softly, "No, Horatio. I won't leave you when you so obviously need to talk to someone."

His hands moved so quickly that she barely saw the motion before one hand hooked behind her neck and the other curved around her waist in an iron grip. Roughly he hauled her against his lean frame. "I warned you," he growled just before his mouth crashed down onto hers. Ruthlessly he kissed her, long and deep, never giving her the chance to resist, dominating her with his greater strength. His body curved into hers, forcing her to bend backwards under the onslaught of his assault. His touch was merciless, demanding, almost savage. Then, just as suddenly, he tore his mouth away from hers and stepped back away from her, gasping for breath, his eyes blazing and his entire body vibrating with his effort at regaining control.

Calleigh stood there trembling, her lips throbbing from his brutal kiss, her breathing ragged and her eyes huge with shock. Her heart was racing, and she was stunned to find that among the myriad sensations racing through her body were deep arousal and heated response. When he had first touched her, her body had responded with desire and undeniable need.

He raked one hand through his hair and closed his eyes, cursing softly under his breath. When he spoke aloud, his voice was strained. "Calleigh…Calleigh I'm sorry, but I did warn you to leave." His back was to her now, shoulders rippling with tension, his head bowed and one hand wearily massaging the tension knotted muscles of his neck. He continued in a shaken voice. "You may as well know Calleigh…you are the reason I've been so edgy lately. I can't get you out of my thoughts. You haunt my dreams. Every time I see you, I have to fight the urge to kiss you and hold you close to me, to feel your body against mine. Calleigh, I could never hope you would return the feelings of this tired, older man, but…I love you with every fiber of my being. If something were to happen to you, I would die."

She was rendered temporarily speechless at the depth of emotion he had just laid bare in front of her. Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached toward him and laid a tender hand on his arm, meaning to offer some small amount of consolation. He flinched away from the soft touch and spun to face her, the torment he felt at her closeness still raging in his eyes.

"Don't touch me again, Calleigh!" he snarled. "I only have so much control where you are concerned."

Her brain was forced to process information at light speed, and she was abruptly faced with a revelation about herself as startling as the one he had just dropped on her. _I love this man._ She realized. In the span of a few seconds, she understood why she'd almost instinctively sought him out, why she responded the way she did when he entered a room, understood the warm rush of attraction when he spoke to her in tha whiskey smooth voice of his. Everything was growing crystal clear to her, and typical of her quick and decisive nature, she made a bold decision.

"Lose the control, Handsome."


	4. Chapter 4

**Flash 4**

With the speed of a striking cobra Horatio closed the distance between them, settling his hands on her upper arms, his grip so intense it was almost painful. His eyes bored into hers, intense, and searching, piercing through to her very soul it seemed. When he spoke, his voice had dropped a full octave making his usual husky tone deeper and more sensual. The sound played across her senses like a velvet glove.

"Calleigh…Calleigh , do you realize what you're saying. Do you…do you mean that?" All the while his hands were making little forays of exploration, restlessly stroking up and down her arms and across her shoulders. Each touch sent tiny jolts of awareness surging through her blood. Fearlessly she met his eyes and threw caution to the winds.

"I've never meant anything more," she answered. She watched as the desperate, haunted look left his eyes to be replaced with a look of desire so intense it shook her to her very core.

Slowly this time, as though he were afraid of hurting her, he drew her back into his arms, bent his head and captured her lips in a breathtaking kiss. She melted against him and surrendered herself to the intoxicating feel of his body against hers. His hands roamed freely over her back and hips leaving arousal that had her aching with need. Then his lips left hers to skim lightly along her jaw line, trailing warm moist kisses over her skin. Calleigh sighed with pleasure and her breath caught when he gently nipped the sensitive spot at the side of her neck just beneath her ear. Nuzzling aside the collar of her shirt, he kissed his way along her collarbone and down toward the throbbing pulse point at the base of her throat. Her heart threatened to beat itself out of her ribcage. Desperately she gripped the front of his shirt to steady herself against the overwhelming flood of desire threatening to totally drown her.

"Horatio," she breathed. Whether it was a prayer, or a request she never knew, because his mouth returned to hers to reclaim already conquered territory, and Calleigh's mind simply shut down. There was only sensation left. Beneath the gentle probing of his tongue, her lips parted and allowed him entrance into the honeyed recesses of her mouth. Her entire existence narrowed down to the taste of his kisses and the feel of his hands urging her body into a fever pitch of wanting and need. She was not even aware that he had slowly backed them toward the couch until the back of her knees hit the edge of it and she felt herself falling. Horatio followed her down. Calleigh moaned at the exquisite pressure of his leanly muscled body pressing hers into the soft cushions.

With his hands no longer needed to keep her upright in his arms, he was free to continue his exploration of her body. He gently eased the material of her shirt out of the waistband of her linen slacks and quickly undid the buttons, all the while continuing his passionate assault with his mouth. When the last button fell free, cool air teased her skin until his hands replaced that sensation with welcomed heat. His warm hands slid smoothly up over her ribcage and cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing the taut nipples through the black lace bra she was wearing. The he made quick work of removing the flimsy garment, sliding the straps from her shoulders and unsnapping the front clasp with ease. "Calleigh, you are so beautiful," he murmured in a tone of almost worship. His head dipped toward her and his lips and tongue feasted on her creamy, soft skin, gently suckling first one breast and then the other.

Calleigh's eager hands were busy too, working almost feverishly to undo the buttons of Horatio's silk shirt. In her hast to do away with the irritating barrier, she tore several buttons loose, sending them flying to the floor. Her objective reached, she slid her hands over the hard, warm planes of his chest and torso, reveling in the satin smooth skin beneath her fingers.

The touch of her soft hands against his body snapped what little control he had left and he grabbed her hands to still them. "God, Calleigh," he groaned, "I've got to have you now!" And so saying he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her slacks and hurriedly slid them down her legs and off her body. He made short work of his own slacks and boxers and with no other preamble than a mindblowing kiss, he situated himself above her, his weight supported on his elbows, and plunged into her.

He honestly tried to hold back, wanted to bring her along with him as he fell over the edge of control into mindless pleasure, but her soft gasp of ecstasy and the feeling of her body, tight and hot enclosing him made that impossible and he simply rode his need. He thrust deeply, each stroke pushing him farther away from sanity and closer to heaven. At some point he opened his eyes and looked down at the sight beneath him. Calleigh's face was flushed with passion, her eyes clouded with pleasure and her head tossing restlessly from side to side. He realized that she was close to her release, so dredging up one last shred of control, he forced himself to slow his rhythm just enough for her to catch up to him. Then they both took the freefall together.

With pleasure exploding through every nerve ending in her body, Calleigh cried out his name, "Horatio!"

Her name spilled from his lips as his vision went dim and he surrendered himself to the same pleasure that convulsed Calleigh's slender frame…

For long moments afterward, they simply lay in each other's arms, content to be held close and warm. Then Horatio pulled back from her just far enough to look down into her sparkling eyes. He started to say something, but at that moment his stomach chose to growl and they both laughed delightedly. Calleigh realized she was hungry too.

"Calleigh, I do believe that it would be better if we took this somewhere else that affords a little more privacy and comfort. Shall we head to my place and a late dinner?"

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

At the word **dinner **a tiny bubble of memory burst in Calleigh's passion-fogged brain. "Oh my gosh, Horatio!" she groaned, "I promised Eric I'd eat with him tonight at a little Cuban restaurant he swears is better than homemade. I need to call him and tell him something came up."

"You Sweetheart. Did you really miss a dinner date with a handsome, young man just to be with this old, redheaded CSI?" he asked with wonderment in his blue eyes.

Considering the fact that she was lying naked in his arms, on the couch in his office after making love with him, Calleigh had to laugh at that question.

"Don't you ever let me hear you refer to yourself as old again, Handsome," she scolded him with mock severity. "You're completely desirable and sexy as sin."

She retrieved her cell phone from the floor where it had fallen from her pants pocket when Horatio had removed them from her. Her fingers fumbled with the numbers as she attempted to dial Eric for the third time, only to misdial again. "See, you've got me so distracted I can't even dial the phone right," she grumbled good-naturedly. At that complaint, Horatio took the phone from her hand and dialed Eric himself.

_Delko, _Calleigh heard him answer, his voice sounding far away through the phone's speaker.

"Eric, this is Horatio. I wanted to call you and tell you that I've abducted your dinner date for this evening…and for the rest of her evenings too, if she will agree. Sorry, man. I hope you don't mind too much."

_H, you smooth operator, it's about time you did this. Calleigh and I have always been just friends. No hard feelings at all. Enjoy your dinner and enjoy her too. See you two in the morning…if you make it in. _

Calleigh could visualize the smirk on the face of the handsome Cuban and she blushed a bright pink.

"Eric," Horatio growled a warning.

_Just teasing you, H. Later man._

Horatio flipped Calleigh's phone closed and handed it back to her.

"Now, that's out of the way, I believe we have dinner to attend to."

XXXXX

Much later that evening, lying completely satiated in Horatio's arms beneath the tangled sheets of his king sized bed, Calleigh let out a contented sigh. She looked into his eyes and said simply and sincerely, "I love you, Horatio Caine. I think I always have."

"Took you long enough," he chuckled and kissed her lightly. "Now, shall we get some sleep? We do still have a case to wrap up tomorrow and I don't know about you, but it's been quite a rollercoaster ride the last few hours. I'm almost completely worn out, Sweetheart."

"Hmmm…only almost? I must be losing my touch. Guess I need to try again if you're only 'almost' worn out."

She launched into him with a passionate kiss, but Horatio gently resisted until she pulled back and looked at him with an adorable pout on her beautiful face.

"Calleigh, Calleigh, don't get me wrong. I want you again, have no doubts about that, but we do need to rest, Sweetheart. But I promise…" he nuzzled her neck and kissed her softly, "…I promise we will continue this in the morning…" his lips eased onto hers and Calleigh moaned quietly.

Tenderly then he snuggled her close to his chest and wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. He brushed a soft kiss across her golden hair and whispered, "Good night, Calleigh. Sleep well."

"Mmm. Good night, Handsome."

Within moments, she was fast asleep.

XXXXX

The next morning in the break room, Calleigh greeted Frank with a dazzling smile.

"Hello, Frank. How are you this morning?"

Frank harrumphed at her. "You're mighty chipper this mornin', Cal. You solve this case already or something?" He reached past her toward the creamer on the counter and was just pouring mountains of the white powder into his coffee cup when Horatio came in wearing an almost identical grin.

"Morning, Frank. Sleep well last night?" Horatio hummed quietly while he reached for his cup and filled it from the fresh pot of coffee Alexx had made on her way to the morgue.

Frank looked at both Horatio and Calleigh and snorted. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you two are up to something."

Horatio's blue eyes twinkled merrily, and Calleigh laughed out loud.

"Now Frank, why would you suspect us of being up to something. Can't a girl be happy in the mornings?"

"A girl, yes," Frank grumped. "But him…" he pointed a thick finger at Horatio who stood there looking at his friend with amusement etched on his face. "…Here he has been snapping people's heads off, growling at everyone in general, threatening friend and foe alike and then all of a sudden he's Mister Goofy Grin." Frank started to leave the break room but stopped short and turned around to look at his two friends.

"I saw you two walk in together this morning didn't I? You ARE up to something."

"Careful, Francis," Horatio warned softly with a smile.

Frank snorted again and then left, grumbling under his breath.

Once Horatio was sure he was gone, he quickly pulled Calleigh into his arms and kissed her then set her back away from him before he could be tempted to do more.

"We're going to have to be very discreet, Sweetheart. Very discreet. Eric knows already, and I suspect Frank will pin me down about it the first chance he gets to talk to me alone."

"So that means no surprising you for a quick one in the gun vault?" Calleigh teased.

Horatio swatted her lightly on the arm. "Enough, Calleigh. I told you once I only have so much control where you are concerned. Don't tempt us to do something that will cause us both headaches later on."

Calleigh sighed and laid her head against his chest for a moment. Then she straightened up and nodded. "You're right, Handsome. Discreet is the word."

"That's my Sweetheart. Now I'll see you later…lunch if it works out, okay?"

"It's a date."

Horatio turned and left Calleigh sipping her coffee, a dreamy smile on her face.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Horatio stood quietly looking out the windows of his office, his mind fixated on the puzzling developments of the carjacking case. Video surveillance from the gas station was useless. The system wasn't installed correctly and the only thing visible on the video was static. A second search of the vehicle had turned up no new evidence. All the blood, and there was precious little of it, had belonged to the victim. Equally fruitless was the second visit he'd made to the victim's widow. The shell casing that had been cause for such hope turned up a dead end, since the fingerprint and seared skin had been identified as belonging to a young child who had wandered through the crime scene and innocently picked up the shiny bit of metal, burning her finger in the process. So they were back to square one. A dead carjack victim, no trace evidence in the car, and fingerprints that did not belong to the killer. That left them with the merest sliver of evidence…the obvious body transfer. Now they were faced with the challenge of finding the original crime scene.

"It's almost as though…"

"Almost as though what?" Frank grumbled as he walked in to Horatio's office unannounced.

"…almost as though the killer doesn't exist, Frank. What have we got?" Horatio asked, spying the papers in Frank's hand.

"We've got a sworn statement from a new witness who says he saw two men drag Mr. Clarrion from his car while a third one drove the car around the corner and out of sight."

"Do we have this witness on premises, Frank?"

"We do. That's what I came to tell you. Figured you could use some good news about this case."

"Indeed, my friend. Shall we?" Horatio motioned for Frank to precede him out the door, but Frank stood there, stubbornly refusing to move.

"Hold yer horses, Horatio. We've got a few minutes. Witness ain't going anywhere." He fixed his friend with a no nonsense stare and placed his hands on his hips. "Now I've known you for a long time and I've never seen you do the kind of chameleon act you put on the last 24 hours. Just yesterday you almost tore my head off for asking if you were okay. Today, you look like you could hug Rick Stetler. What's up, man?"

"Frank…"

"Stuff it, H. I won't leave until you tell me what's going on with you. And Calleigh…what's gotten into her?"

"Funny you should put it that way, Frank." Horatio said dryly, waiting for Frank's reaction.

"What do you…" The big Texan's eyes grew round with sudden understanding. "Ahhh…you mean, you and….ah…I see. So that explains the matching silly grins you two are wearing. Well I sure never saw that one coming."

"It wasn't something we advertised." Horatio teased gently.

"No kidding. I suppose you want this under wraps?" Frank asked.

"Tight wraps, Frank."

"I got ya. Although if you two don't tone down the grins, everyone else will catch on and I won't have to say anything. They'll figure it out for themselves."

"Yes, well… Our witness, Frank. Shall we go talk to him?"

"By all means."

The two men exited Horatio's office and headed for the conference room.

XXXXX

Calleigh hummed happily to herself as she peered through the lenses of the comparison microscope. The image blurred and then swam into focus.

"Damn." She muttered. The striations did NOT match.

She thought about that for a moment. They had a shell casing that didn't match anything. That meant that they were dealing with two weapons instead of one and one of them was not in the database.

"Why do I get the feeling this case just got a whole lot more complicated?"

Calleigh spun around at the sound of Eric's voice. "You scared me, Eric." She laughed and then answered his question. "It DID get more complicated. We have a gun and matching casings from the crime scene, but we also have one casing that doesn't match anything we've got in IBIS."

"That is tricky," Eric agreed and then winked broadly, "but not as tricky as hiding the fact that you and the boss have it going on."

"Eric Delko, I'll shoot you if you tell anyone. You know Stetler's rules on fraternization. And besides, it's not like we've been hiding anything from him. It just all happened so suddenly…I went to talk to him last night and…"

"…and one thing led to another. I know, Cal, and I'm happy for you. Really I am. And you know I'll keep my mouth shut…for a price."

"A price?" Calleigh said, puzzlement evident in her voice and expression.

"Yes, a price. I want you to make him as happy as you can. He's had so much sadness in his life, Calleigh, so much tragedy and loss. Make him happy. Make him smile like I saw him smile this morning in the break room. I haven't seen him smile like that since…since Marisol died."

"Oh, Eric…" Calleigh reached and hugged him and wiped moisture from her eyes.

Eric hugged her back and kissed her softly on the cheek. "Do you think he'd kill me if I asked for a rain check on our dinner? I really think you'd love the restaurant. He could come too. My treat for the both of you."

Calleigh smiled up at him. "I think he'd love that, Eric."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

When Horatio and Frank entered the interrogation room, the witness was seated quietly at the table, and for a moment, Horatio simply observed the man. He was dressed in worn clothing, old blue jeans frayed at the edges, and a button up shirt that badly needed patching at the elbows. His face was less than clean and in need of a good shave, and it was obvious his shock of unruly brown hair hadn't seen a comb in ages. Horatio was doubtful they would glean any useful information from him, but at the moment the man was the only promising lead they had.

"Mr. Carter," Horatio addressed him after scanning the written statement for a moment. "Thank you for coming in. I understand you have some information for us concerning a case we are working on."

"Yes, I do. I was at the store on the other corner when I seen these two guys…big guys…walk up to that there white car that was at the gas pump. Well, they wasn't there to talk, if you know what I mean." The man smiled broadly, revealing a several gaps where his teeth should have been. "One of 'em poked his head inside the window and started in yellin' at the driver. Then he jerked open the door and shot the poor devil right in the face. Just shot him for no reason. That other big feller with him came around and they drug that guy round back of the store. A third one ran up and jumped in the front seat and took off with the car. I never did rightly see where they took that poor man they shot."

"Could you describe the three men you saw?" Horatio's voice was skeptical.

"I shore nuff can, officer."

Frank smothered a laugh with a cough and earned himself a stern glare from Horatio.

"Please continue, Mr. Carter." Horatio encouraged him.

"Well the one that drove the car off, I didn't see so good, but I did see him well enough that I can tell you he had the most god-awful bunch of tattoos on his arms that I ever did see. Looked like his arms was dirty. Them other two…One of them was tall sort of, with a shaved head. He walked with a limp and he had tattoos all over that bald head of his…"

Horatio suddenly became very still, motionless in fact. It was as though he had frozen in place at the man's words. He interrupted brusquely… "Did you by any chance see if the man had any fingers missing?"

An acute intensity possessed him and he fixed the man with a piercing gaze… "Did that man have any fingers missing…on his left hand? Think Mr. Carter. Think very carefully."

"Well now…come to think of it, I believe he did. I saw his hand when he jerked that car door open and it seems to me that he was missing one or two."

Frank felt cold chills go down his spine. His eyes met Horatio's and knew exactly what the redhead was thinking…_Hernan Ortega…_the blood-thirstiest member of the Mala Noche since Memmo Fierro.

"Mr. Carter, would you be willing to look at some booking photos to see if you recognize any of the three men you saw?" Horatio asked.

"I'll do whatever I can, officer."

"Frank, bring the book."

Ten minutes later, the man had identified two of the men, one of whom was indeed Rafael Hernan Ortega. He flipped back and forth through the pages of booking photos, but couldn't positively identify the third man.

"I'm sorry, officers. I just didn't get a good enough look see at him to say he's one of these guys. But those other two…well there ain't no doubt in my mind. "

"No worries, Mr. Carter." Horatio smiled at him and handed him a card from inside his suit coat pocket. "You've been more help than you know. If you think of anything else, or if you need us in any way, you call the number on that card. Now if you'll just follow this officer, he will see you to the desk to check out and will escort you to the parking garage." His ice blue eyes watched as the man followed the MDPD officer and stepped into the elevator. As soon as the man disappeared from sight, Horatio turned to Frank. "I want eyes on him 24/7, Frank. If there is even the slightest chance that Ortega saw him, he's a dead man."

"You got it."

"Now, I need to make a trip to ballistics."

Frank snorted. "Work or…?"

"Francis…" Horatio growled a warning.

XXXXX

Calleigh's heart almost catapulted itself from her chest at the sight of Horatio walking through her door, then just as quickly jerked back into a normal rhythm when she saw the intense look of determination on his rugged face. She knew he was on a mission and nothing would deter him from his intent.

"Calleigh, I need you to run that extra casing again…this time against the weapon we confiscated from Rafael Hernan Ortega in that gang shooting at the Biscayne Mall a couple of months ago."

"I'll get right on it, Horatio."

"Find me when you get the results."

He started toward the door and then stopped. Turning, he gave Calleigh one of his heart-stopping full smiles. "You look lovely today, Sweetheart." And then he was gone, leaving Calleigh with her heart racing at the warmth of his smile and the caress of his voice.

XXXXX

Patterns shifted and refocused and swam beneath the lens of the comparison microscope and still Calleigh was unable to find a match for the one extra casing they had discovered at the scene. There were some similarities but not enough to present an airtight case in court. Muttering under her breath, Calleigh looked once more at the round from the Biscayne Mall shooting. Then she sucked in a breath…_a silencer would cause the anomalies on the second round even if it had been fired from the same gun. _Quickly she pulled her phone from her pocket and pressed speed dial.

Horatio's voice interrupted the first ring.

"Talk to me, Calleigh."

"Horatio, I think our shooter used a silencer. That would explain the odd casing we found at the scene. The rounds WERE fired from the same weapon, but one shot was fired with a silencer attached to the gun. That's why we didn't find it in IBIS. The gun's original signature of lands and grooves was altered."

"Great work, Cal. That's enough for a warrant."


	8. Chapter 8

**Flash 8**

Hernán Ortega smirked as he was led into the interrogation room and seated by two hulking MDPD officers. He laced his fingers together and cracked the knuckles of his right hand loudly before settling back into the chair with an insolent air about him.

Horatio, who was standing with his back to the table, said not a word. Silence filled the room and after long moments of nothing, Ortega began to fidget in the chair, first flexing his bulging biceps and then moving around to find a more comfortable position in which to slouch in the chair. Still Horatio said nothing.

At last, Ortega spoke out. "Okay, Caine. You bring me here. Why the silent treatment?"

Horatio turned so fast the motion was a blur. " Because I hate wasting breath on an animal like you," he snarled, leaning down to within inches of Ortega's face.

Straightening up, Horatio composed himself before continuing. "Mr. Ortega…we have an eyewitness who has positively identified you as being present during the carjacking and murder of Mr. Clarrion."

"You ain't got nothing on me, man." Ortega bit off a fingernail and spat it at Horatio with a sneer.

"I beg to differ." Horatio's voice was a deadly soft purr."

"How? I know you got no fingerprints, Caine. I ain't got any to give." Ortega taunted Horatio, lifting his hands and waving them in the air, showing the left hand with the index and middle fingers missing. "And if anyone saw me do anything, they'd be dead already. My boys know how to clean up a mess."

"So you did do something." Horatio said softly. "You did something that needed cleaning up?"

"Keep guessing, Caine. Just keep guessing. And while you're guessing, my boys'll spring me outta here."

"Well...making an educated **guess **using the ballistics evidence we recovered, I can place the gun used in the shootings squarely in your hand, Mr. Ortega."

At that statement, Ortega shot upward in the chair. "You got nothin'! Nothin' I tell you. I silenced that gun, fixed it so the…" Suddenly the big man realized what he was saying and his mouth snapped shut.

One pale red eyebrow rose almost to Horatio's hairline and a smug grin spread over his face. "Go on, Mr. Ortega. You were saying?"

Ortega began shouting and wildly gesturing with his manacled hands. "That's entrapment! You forced me to say that! I want a lawyer!"

"Believe me, you're gonna need one," Horatio said with a grim look. "You're gonna need one. Officers, take him."

The two officers pulled the enraged Ortega from the chair and bodily manhandled him toward the door, but not before he was able to lunge toward Horatio, snarling and vibrating with barely leashed hate for the redheaded man standing before him.

"I'll get you, Caine! The Noche got your precious Marisol and we'll get you, never doubt that. Your time is coming. You can put me in jail, but that won't matter. I own people on the inside, and when I get through working through them, this city will be a wildfire of crime, and you won't be able to do one single thing about it, because you'll be dead! You better watch your back, Caine."

"As should you, my friend." Horatio stepped close to Ortega and whispered low in his ear so the officers were unable to hear his words. " You see…I also own people on the inside." Then he stepped back and smiled and nodded toward the two men standing guard. "Officers…"

This time when the two officers began moving the gang leader toward the door, he went docilely, casting nervous glances at Horatio over his shoulder as he went.

XXXXX

Calleigh was working quietly on the last of the ballistics reports when Horatio opened the door and stepped into her lab. She was so engrossed in her work that she did not notice his arrival until he slipped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her slender waist and pulled her back against his chest.

"Horatio!" she gasped and then hummed softly as he nuzzled into the softness of her hair and pressed soft kisses along the side of her neck.

"Sweetheart..." he whispered, aching to take her breath away with a much more intense kiss, but knowing that such activities were not wise at work. After a couple more breathless moments, he released her and turned her around to look down into her sparkling eyes. Her radiant smile almost blinded him.

"Well, now...that's what I call a greeting. Is this a celebration of catching the bad guy, or did you just come to distract me?"

"Hmmm..." Horatio chuckled. "I suppose you could say, it's both. Your ballistics work gave me the key piece of evidence to put Ortega behind bars. And yes, I did come to distract you...distract you and remind you that we clock out in 45 minutes. Where do you want to go for dinner, Sweetheart?"

"Aren't you a charmer?" Calleigh quipped and then kissed him lightly.

"Now who's doing the distracting?," he purred and kissed her back.

"Where do I want to go eat? Hmmm well..." she hesitated for a moment and then continued. "I'd really like to try that Cuban restaurant Eric was planning on taking me to, Handsome. He offered to take both of us, his treat. If you don't want to, we can do something else. It's just that I feel a little guilty leaving him high and dry like I did the other night."

"We did leave him in a bit of a lurch, didn't we?" Horatio smiled. "Okay, that's what we'll do. You want to call him or do you want me to?"

"I'll call him and tell him."

"You do that. But..." he waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "...we are having dessert at my place...alone."

"I love the sound of that, Handsome."

"I have to go take care of the last details on Ortega, so I'll see you in 45 minutes, Sweetheart." Horatio kissed her once more and then left her lab, a happy smile on his face.

XXXXX

It was late when Horatio and Calleigh made it back to his condo after a very satisfying dinner that evening. Ever the gentleman, Horatio came around to Calleigh's side of the Hummer and opened her door, helping her down from the passenger seat. He stole a quick kiss before wrapping an arm around her waist and walking with her toward the front door.

Just before they reached the front steps, Calleigh stopped abruptly. Horatio looked down at her with a question in his eyes. "Sweetheart?"

"I left my phone on the front seat. Let me go get it. I'll be right back."

Horatio nodded and continued up the steps toward the door. He inserted his key into the lock, turned it...and all hell broke loose.

The night exploded into blinding light and searing heat as the door disentegrated into a million tiny pieces, propelled outward by the force of the bomb.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**A/N My dear readers...you are due an explanation. When this story first went on the boards some three years ago under the original title of "Surface Tension," it ended with chapter 4, and I was never really satisfied with it. There was too much left undone, too much of a story line left hanging. During the reposting of it, Athena perched on my shoulder and begged to continue it past the original 4 chapters and you know me…I can never say 'no' to her when she begs. That is the reason I have continued with new material far past the first 4 chapters. Again I reiterate I am NOT coming out of retirement. Think of it instead as my tying up loose ends before being able to allow myself to truly be finished with my writing career.**

**To all of you who have read and reviewed this or any of the stories, old or newer, thank you so very much. **

**Lieutenant Caine**

**And now…**

At the very second of the explosion, some instinct from his past work with the bomb squad flared to life in Horatio's mind and he ducked his head, thereby partially shielding his face from the flying missiles created when the bomb tore the door apart. He was bodily lifted by the concussion of the explosion and flung backward some 20 feet, landing heavily on his back in the hibiscus hedge. Breath left his lungs in a rush. Heat seared over him. His vision swam and blurred. A roaring filled his ears and acrid smoke stung his nostrils. Then his body began to alert him to the hundreds of wooden projectiles that had blasted through his suit coat and shirt and augured themselves into his skin. He had become a literal human pincushion. Pain of a greater magnitude manifest itself and he realized that he had at least a broken collar bone and possibly several broken ribs. Mercifully at that point, the sweet, soothing embrace of unconsciousness enveloped him and he gratefully sank into the darkness.

Calleigh had just turned to walk back up the sidewalk when the explosion tore the night apart.

"Horatio, NO!" she screamed. Her disbelieving eyes followed the trajectory of his body as it was hurled backward and landed awkwardly in the hedgerow. Debris and smoke billowed outward, momentarily halting her in her headlong rush to check on her lover.

"Oh my god! Horatio!" Her breath came in panicked gasps.

When she at last reached his side, she placed two fingers along the side of his neck and was relieved to feel a slow but steady pulse. Quickly she dialed 911 and waited for what seemed like eternity before the operator came on the line.

"911 what is your emergency?"

"This is CSI Calleigh Duquesene. I am at 5164 E. Hydrangea St. I have an officer down. Requesting back up and rescue. Repeat, OFFICER DOWN!"

"Roger that Ms. Duquesne. We have rescue and MDPD rolling."

"Tell them to hurry."

"They're on their way, Ma'am."

Calleigh slid the phone into her back pocket and turned her attention back to the wounded man lying in the bushes. She knew it would have been uncomfortable to him had he been aware of how awkwardly he was positioned, but she knew also that to try to move him might cause him further injuries beyond what she could see in the faint evening light.

The glow from the streetlight on the corner revealed a portion of Horatio's injuries. Cuts and burns marred his handsome face. His hair was singed at the edges, and Calleigh choked back angry tears and gently smoothed back a blood-soaked lock that had fallen down over his forehead She could see that pieces of the door were embedded in his face and neck. One particularly large sliver of wood protruded from his shoulder like some grotesque extra appendage. It had penetrated deeply through the silk suit coat Horatio wore, and blood welled up in a steady flow from the wound.

Taking his hand in hers Calleigh pressed a soft kiss against one relatively uninjured patch of skin and whispered, "Hang on, Handsome. Stay with me. Rescue is on the way."

At that moment, in a bizarre parody of normalcy, Horatio's phone began to ring, startling Calleigh until she identified the source of the sound. She carefully reached beneath his coat and pulled the device from its case. The caller ID read *_**Frank Tripp**_*.

"Frank...thank god you called..." Calleigh almost cried with relief at the sound of Frank's voice.

"I heard the call come in through dispatch. I'm on my way, Cal. Bring me up to speed while I'm in route."

"There's not much to tell. We went out to eat with Eric this evening and then when we got to Horatio's condo, we started toward the door, but I left my phone in the Hummer so I went back to get it. Just as I turned around and started back up the walk, Horatio turned the key to open the door and the bomb went off."

"You two okay?" The big man's voice was worried.

"He's hurt, Frank. How bad, I don't know for sure, but he's hurt."

"And you, Cal. You okay other than just being shook up?" Frank asked.

"I'm rattled, Frank. I don't mind telling you that. Rattled and angry. We get these people, whoever they are. We don't stop until we get them and put them behind bars for life. Attempted murder one." Calleigh's voice shook with poorly concealed emotion.

"My money is on the Noche. Ortega threatened Horatio in the interrogation room this afternoon, but my god I never thought he could make things happen this fast."

The wailing of sirens interrupted their conversation and Calleigh turned to see several MDPD cruisers and an ambulance approaching.

"MDPD and rescue are here, Frank. I'm gonna get off here so I can talk with them. See you when you get here."

"I'll be there in about 10 more, Cal." And Frank hung up.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The ER waiting room was quiet save for one person who was talking very animatedly to the charge nurse.

"Can't you even let me see him? What room do you have him in? Who's his doctor? Do I need to call your supervisor?" The blonde was rapidly approaching a point beyond reason, and the nurse gave a loud sigh as she repeated her words from before.

"Ms, Duquesne, need I remind you that your colleague has been critically injured and you may NOT go back to see him at the moment." The charge nurse was firm as she stood in front of Calleigh, denying her access to the doors leading into the ER.

"You listen to me…" Calleigh began, her temper rising.

"No, Cal, you need to simmer down."

The voice was accompanied by a large hand that closed gently around her upper arm and turned her around. Frank stood there looking at her with a mixture of concern and gentle reprimand on his face.

"Cal, be reasonable. You know you can't do anything for him right now. And you'd only be in the way. Alexx is back there with him. I made sure of that. He's in good hands Cal, so you just calm down. Why don't we go to the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee if they're still open?"

"I think that would be a splendid idea," the nurse said gratefully and smiled at both Frank and Calleigh. "I promise I'll let you in as soon as it's okay, but I can't at the moment."

Calleigh sighed in resignation, and nodded at Frank. "Okay. Let's go get coffee. Lead the way."

"That's a girl."

Frank draped an arm around Calleigh's shoulders and turned her toward the exit, leading her out into the hall. They were almost to the cafeteria when they met Ryan and Natalia.

"Hey, guys, how's it going? How is H?"

"He's in surgery at the moment, Ryan," Calleigh answered, "…and they won't let me go back."

"Good for them. You'd be telling them how to operate on him." Natalia's comment was tempered with a soft smile and Calleigh had to admit the truth of the statement.

"You're right Nat, I would."

"Lets' walk and talk, guys. I don't know 'bout ya'll but I'd mighty like to grab a cup of coffee. It's shapin' up to be a long night." Frank said with just a hint of impatience in his voice.

"I'm with you, Frank. Let's go get coffee." Nat said with a smile at the big detective.

"Sounds good to me," Ryan agreed.

The four friends walked the rest of the way to the food service area and were pleased to find that even though the food line was closed for the night, the vending machines were still on and offered a good variety of snacks and drinks.

Once they had all made their purchases and were seated around the table, the conversation turned to the bombing itself.

"Ryan, do we have any proof positive who is behind this? I think we all suspect Ortega's men, but do we have an evidence to support that assumption?" Calleigh asked, taking a cautious sip of her coffee. She grimaced at the taste and tore open four more packets of sugar and dumped them into the steaming black liquid. Ryan eyed Calleigh's coffee and raised one eyebrow.

"Think you got enough sugar in that?" he teased. Then he sobered. "The bomb squad is still sifting through literally mountains of debris. The door and the front foyer were reduced to rubble by the bomb, and it's gonna take time to comb through all of it to piece together any evidence. When I left they still hadn't found the device that caused the explosion, so we don't even have that to go on at the moment. If we had pieces of the actual bomb, we could process for fingerprints or even signature, but we don't have it yet."

"Well, they need to find it and find it quick," Calleigh snapped. "I want whoever is responsible…" Nat heard the beginnings of a tirade and reached across the table, placing her hand over Calleigh's. She squeezed once and then let go when Calleigh's eyes tagged her with a glare.

"We all do, Calleigh," she interrupted softly. "We all do. And we'll get them. You know we will. But angry outbursts won't help, you know that. We're all just as worried as you are about H, but worry won't help solve this and put his attacker behind bars."

Calleigh sighed and reined in her frustration, her expression softening just a bit. "I know, Nat. It's just…"

"Just what, honey?" came the smooth tones of a familiar voice from behind them.

"Alexx!" Calleigh gave a glad little cry and jumped up from her seat to turn toward their friend and former ME.

Alexx smiled broadly as Calleigh launched herself into an enormous hug, wrapping her arms around the older woman and holding her tightly. Alexx's arms enfolded her and held her close. She chuckled and said, "I'm glad to see you too, baby."

Calleigh reached up and kissed Alexx' cheek before stepping back. "You don't know how glad we are to see you. Come sit down. What's going on back there? Is there any news? How is he? How did you know where to find us?"

Everyone laughed at the rapid fire string of questions.

"Slow down, girl. One question at a time." Amusement colored Alexx' voice at Calleigh's show of impatience. She sat down at the table and looked at all of them before beginning.

"I've got good news and bad. Which do you want first?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Ryan spoke first after Alexx' somber statement.

"Just how bad is 'bad', Alexx?"

"How about I just give you all the news and you can sort it out and decide for yourself how bad you think it is."

"Lay it on us, Alexx." Frank said.

Calleigh's worried eyes never left Alexx' face as the ME began to explain.

"Dr. Cromewell is the lead surgeon on the team that is working on Horatio. He is the best at this kind of thing. They are working now to remove a large piece of wood from the abdomen. Fortunately it did not penetrate any vital organs. It did come within inches of the stomach, but missed. The difficulty is in removing it without leaving any splinters behind to become infected and cause problems. That is what is taking so long. The surgery is going well, but it will take a while longer. He has three broken ribs on the right side, one of which punctured his lung. His right clavicle is fractured. And his right ankle is broken."

Alexx stopped for a moment to let the team assimilate the information she'd just given them.

"Ah…Alexx, I'm confused. Was that the good news or the bad news?" Ryan asked with a worried look.

"I'm sorry baby, but that was the good news."

Calleigh's eyebrows flew into her hairline. "That was the GOOD news?" she squeaked. Her breath lodged in her throat and she simply sat there looking dumbfounded at her dear friend.

Alexx chuckled briefly at the agitated blonde and shook her head. "Breathe, honey. It's a good thing."

"But, Alexx…" Calleigh spluttered, "if that's the good news… do we really want to hear the bad?"

"We may not want to hear it, Cal, but we have to know." Nat said quietly.

"Natalia is right. You have to hear it and deal with it before you can get back to work on this case and catch the bastards who did this to Horatio."

A sense of foreboding settled over the little group and for a moment there was silence. Then Alexx took a deep breath and began again.

"When the bomb went off, Horatio apparently had his right hand on the doorknob…"

"Oh…my…god…" This time it was Frank who gave voice to the dread that hovered about them.

Calleigh's eyes went round and Ryan sucked in a slow breath. Natalia closed her eyes and shook her head, desperately trying to deny what they all suddenly knew Alexx was about to say.

"No, Alexx…please NO." Calleigh begged.

"I'm sorry honey. His hand was severely injured. Dr. Cromewell was able to save the hand itself, but…" Alexx hesitated and tears filled her brown eyes, then she steadied and continued.

"…but he wasn't able to save the pinkie finger. It was too damaged and had to come off. The ligaments were torn and burned and the bones were crushed. There's a very real chance that he will never regain full use of that hand. At best he will have limited range of motion."

"His gun hand," Calleigh whispered.

"I'm sorry, baby." Alexx said softly, and reached to capture Calleigh's chin in a gentle grip and turn her face to look into her eyes. "At least they didn't kill him. We still have him and he's going to recover."

"But his hand, Alexx…his hand." Tears began streaming down Calleigh's face.

"I know, baby. I know."

Frank huffed once. "Well that's a kick in the gut if I ever heard one."

Alexx took one look at all the long faces at the table and the wisdom from her years with the team kicked into high gear.

"Okay, you all, listen to me. Ryan, look at me. Natalia, open your eyes. Frank…" Then she turned back to Calleigh with a stern look in her eyes. "Calleigh Marie…I know this has rocked your world. But Horatio is gonna need strength from you not pity or worry. Anger is fine. Be mad. Be mad as hell at these bastards. That will give you the drive to catch them and bring them in. But under no circumstances are any of you to have long faces and be morose when you do get to visit with Horatio. Do you understand me? His recovery will depend in part on the way you respond to his injuries. If you act as though there is no hope, he will pick up on that and will give up too. You can't behave like it's the end of the world. Horatio is a tough, stubborn customer and he won't admit it, but he needs you now more than he has ever needed you… all of you…and what he needs especially is a good attitude from you. So straighten up your faces. Dry your eyes. Be positive."

Frank slowly nodded his understanding and agreement. Natalia did as well. Ryan reached across the table and gently cupped Alexx face in his hand and whispered softly, "Thanks Alexx. I think we all needed to hear that."

Calleigh alone did not respond to Alexx' motherly scolding. Instead, she slowly pushed back from the table and walked away from the group to stand at the window with her back to them. Her head hung low and her fists clenched and unclenched spasmodically. Her shoulders shook and she tried her best to stem the flow of tears, but had no success.

"I'll handle her," Frank said quietly, rising from the table.

He stepped behind Calleigh and placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her around, intending to say words of comfort. She never gave him the chance. In a heartbeat she spun around and plastered herself to his broad chest, caving in under the onslaught of tears and grief that shook her. For a second he was startled, but then wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"That's a girl, Cal. Cry it all out. I've got ya. Don't worry about what anyone thinks, just let it all go and get it out of your system."

From across the room the others watched and Alexx smiled gently, knowing that Frank would take good care of Calleigh in Horatio's absence.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The soft grumble of Frank's voice and the warmth of his arms around Calleigh's shoulders soon had the desired effect. Her tears slowed and then stopped altogether, replaced by tiny sniffles as she re-gathered her composure. Still she was reluctant to leave the shelter of his embrace. As Horatio's second in command of the lab, the weight of directing the team fell squarely on her petite shoulders now that he was out of action, and she wanted to delay the transfer of power as long as possible. Finally, she raised her head and looked up at her friend. A tiny smile crossed her face and she whispered, "Thank you, Frank. I'm sorry I lost it like that, but thank you for being so understanding."

The big Texan relaxed his embrace and stepped back, yet didn't quite relinquish his hold on her completely. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders and he smiled at her, carefully gauging just how ready she was to face the others.

"Well now…as Horatio would say… No worries, Sweetheart,"

"Frank, you're a love." She stood on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

Swift color rose in his face and he coughed into his hand. "Ahem…let's not get too…"

"Okay, you two. Come back to earth." Ryan's voice teased them from across the room.

Turning, Frank and Calleigh walked arm in arm back to the table. Frank held Calleigh's chair for her and waited until she was seated before he sat back down.

"Feel a little better, baby?" Alexx said with a smile.

"Yeah, I do."

"I know you do. Sometimes it's best to have a good cry and let it all go. Then you can think clearly and do what needs to be done. And speaking of what needs to be done…"

Alexx looked at her watch and shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go do my rounds. I was 15 minutes late, 30 minutes ago. I'll keep up with Horatio's progress and let you know the second I hear news, although I suspect there will be one of you with him at all times if I know this team."

A chorus of 'see you later' and a round of hugs and Alexx bustled away, clucking her tongue at herself over her tardiness. Ryan grinned at her retreating figure, knowing that she didn't regret one second of the time she'd given them.

"Okay, guys," Calleigh's voice was clear and firm, "how do we want to do this? One of us needs to be with him all the time, especially when he wakes up, whenever that happens to be. What about six hour shifts? Is that too long?"

"Sounds just about right to me." Frank said.

"Six hours…yeah that's good." Ryan agreed. "Gives whoever's in the field plenty of time to work on the case before coming back here to sit with him."

"So…who takes first shift?" Nat asked, her eyes automatically going to Calleigh's face.

"I will." Calleigh answered immediately. "I was with him when the accident happened, and I was the last person he saw before he lost consciousness. It's probably best if I'm the first person he sees when he wakes."

"Good thinkin', Cal." Frank stood up from the table and adjusted his coat. "Think I'll head back to the house for the night… make that morning," he said, looking at his watch, "…and get some rest. You two ought to do the same. This is gonna be a long haul and we need to be clear to tackle this again come daylight."

"Frank is right," Calleigh agreed after the big detective had left the room. "Ryan, Nat…I'll stay the rest of the night with him. You guys go get some sleep. Let me know when you work out a plan for who comes next to stay, oh and work Eric into the rotation too."

"I'll come back at 8:00," Nat said, "and I'll bring you a change of clothes."

"That sounds heavenly, Nat. Thank you." Calleigh ran her hands over her outfit and grimaced, realizing just how long she'd had it on. "Could I talk you into bringing my things like toothbrush and toothpaste, you know, stuff I need to freshen up?" She dug in her purse and retrieved the key to her condo, slipped it off the key ring and handed it to Natalia.

"You've got it." Nat smiled and hugged her friend. "See you in a bit."

"I'll get with Eric first thing when I check in at the lab," Ryan said.

"Thanks, Ryan. You guys are great."

Another hug and Calleigh was left alone in the cafeteria, the soft lights of the vending machines her only company until a shadow fell across her table. She looked up to see a man standing there…a man she did not know.

"Can I help you, Sir?" she asked as she slowly let her hand drift downward toward her weapon.

A smirk settled on his face and he looked pointedly at her gun hand, indicating that he was well aware of what she was doing.

"No. You can't help me. I just came to deliver a message."

"A message? A message from whom?"

"A message from Ortega. He says to remember that he's got people on the inside."

The man turned to walk away, but stopped when Calleigh barked out, "Stop! Who are you?"

"Me? I'm nobody. It's Ortega you need to worry about. Now, I gotta go. I've got work to do." He turned and before Calleigh could say another word, he slipped through a side door that had escaped her notice. Once again she was alone in the semi-darkened cafeteria.

She mulled over his words, growing more and more anxious until realization hit her like a thunderbolt. _"people on the inside…I've got work to do…" _ The man was hospital staff and was more than likely Mala Noche.

"Oh my God…" she whispered.

Horatio Caine was in grave danger.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_People on the inside…people on the inside…people on the inside… _The words rang like a death knell in Calleigh's mind. She became a veritable blonde hurricane, springing into furious motion. Her hand whipped out her cell phone, flipped it open, and dialed Frank all in one, smooth but rapid motion. As she was talking, she made her way back toward the ICU waiting room as fast as her feet would carry her without actually running.

"Frank…sorry to call so soon already, but we've got a situation. I need you back here at the hospital."

Quickly, and with a minimum of words, Calleigh explained the strange appearance of the man and his ominous words. Frank immediately agreed with her about tightening security around Horatio's room and promised to be back within minutes. He also promised to pull the rest of the team back in as well as a pair of known and trusted, uniformed officers to stand guard by the door.

The waiting room was empty when Calleigh arrived a few moments later, slightly breathless and high color in her face. She rang the bell at the front desk and breathed a sigh of relief when a new charge nurse appeared in response to her summons.

"Can I help you, Ma'am?"

"Yes. I am Calleigh Duquesne with the Miami Crime lab," she laid her badge and identification on the counter for the nurse to see, "…Lieutenant Horatio Caine was brought in this evening with injuries from an explosion. We have received additional threats to his life this evening and I am placing you under advisement that you are to allow no one back to see him unless you see an MDPD badge and proper identification. Is that clear?"

"I understand, Ms. Duquesne…and I believe that it might be possible for you to go back to him now if you'd wish. He's still unconscious, but he is stable."

"You don't know how much I'd like that." Calleigh smiled at the nurse.

"This way, please."

The nurse bustled back through the doors and led the way to the farthest room in the intensive care unit. The sliding glass doors were closed and Calleigh held her breath as the nurse touched the controls that both opened the doors and turned them from opaque privacy mode to clear observation mode. She was totally unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

Horatio lay in the bed, almost his entire body swathed in bandages. The only truly recognizable thing about him was the thatch of red hair that had somehow escaped the layers of gauze encircling his head. He looked for all the world like a mummy, and for a moment Calleigh felt hysterical laughter claw at her insides, threatening to dismantle her control and reduce her to a giggling idiot. Resolutely, she forced down the hysteria and approached the side of the bed. Only at close range was the full extent of the damage visible. Again Calleigh fought emotion. This time a flood of tears threatened to overwhelm her gritty determination to stay focused and professional. She reached one hand and carefully stroked over the small area of his face that was relatively uninjured and free of the bandages that covered the rest of his body.

Her feather light touch provoked a startling response.

Horatio stirred and groaned.

"Handsome?" she said, hardly daring to believe that he was responding so soon.

Auburn eyelashes trembled against his cheek and Calleigh held her breath as the eye slowly fluttered open.

From far away, Horatio heard a voice calling to him..._Handsome? _ The person seemed to be very anxious for him to answer and so he tried to speak. His mouth moved and his lips formed words but nothing came from his throat except a harsh expulsion of air. He became aware of a tightness about his head, a feeling that made him quite uncomfortable, and he raised his hand to brush away the sensation. But it was not his hand that slowly came into view when his brain gave the command for his arm to move. It was some strange club-like thing that rose in front of his vision. It took a moment for him to assimilate what his eye was seeing. Bandages. White bandages where his hand should be. _Why bandaged? _His thoughts were less than lucid. Again the voice from far away called him, more insistent this time, and he turned his gaze toward the sound.

"Horatio, it's me…Calleigh."

_Calleigh…_ His mind grasped the name and turned it this way and that until finally recognition eased into his thoughts. _Calleigh! _ On the heels of that minor victory came a fragment of a memory…_blinding light, searing heat..._ He tried again to speak. _What…what happened…_ This time the effort cost him dearly and a cough ripped itself from his throat, sending exquisite pain throughout his entire body. On the positive side, the jolt of agony served to clear his thinking and in a flash it all came back to him.

_We were coming home from dinner with Eric. Calleigh left her phone on the seat of the Hummer and went back to get it. I tried to open the front door and when I turned the key a bomb exploded. I must be in the hospital…injured badly. My hand…oh god my hand…_

Frantic urgency seized him and he attempted to raise his hand again only to have a soft touch restrain him.

"No, Horatio. There's time for that later. You need to rest. You've been through a lot this evening."

Desperately he tried to communicate his thoughts to her with only his one un-bandaged eye. _Calleigh, I need to know…I need to know if I've lost the hand…please tell me._

She seemed to read his unspoken thoughts. She shook her head 'no' and spoke softly. "Shhhh. Relax… I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere until you're up and better. Just relax, my love. Rest." Her voice and touch acted as a soothing balm and he felt the tension ease. With a soft sigh he closed his eye and slipped back into the comforting darkness.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

After Frank's arrival, it was decided that Calleigh would finish out her shift and then change places with him in the waiting room. He had arrived shortly after her frantic call and had spent some time with her in the room, talking quietly in an effort to help keep the tired blonde awake. Finally he stood and stretched.

"Seems pretty quite for now, Cal. I think I'm gonna step out to the waiting room and see if I can't get a few Z's. I'll be just down the hall if you need me."

"Okay, Frank. Thanks for coming back up. Glad you're here with me."

Frank nodded. "Hollar if you need me," and he shuffled off down the hall leaving her alone with Horatio. She looked up and down the corridor, noting the two uniformed MDPD officers standing guard a few paces from the door and the second pair farther down the hall standing quietly by the elevator lobby. Satisfied as the the security of the situation, she ducked back into the room and settled tiredly into the chair by Horatio's bed.

Sleep teased Calleigh for hours after that, lingering just long enough for her to lose clarity, but not long enough for her to get any real rest. Her eyes felt weighted down with lead and her whole body seemed locked in a profound lethargy. Finally, after several hours of fitful dozing, Calleigh's head dropped softly against the pillow the nurse had brought her and she fell sound asleep. Silence descended in the ICU room, broken only by the quiet murmurs and occasional beeps of the army of machines standing guard over the gravely injured man in lying in the bed. A young intern stepped in to check Horatio's blood pressure and respiration…and Calleigh slept. Had she been awake, she would have instantly been aware of the danger.

The young man studied her carefully for long minutes, noting the even rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He made a deliberate soft noise, tapping his pen against the clipboard her carried, testing whether she was truly asleep, and when she made no response to the sound he nodded his head to himself and stepped closer to Horatio's bed. A murderous gleam grew in his eyes as he reached for the IV bag that hung suspended just above Horatio's head. He withdrew a syringe from his pocket and uncapped it, flicking it lightly to settle the air bubbles that had accumulated in the barrel.

"Let's see how long you last after this hits your system, Caine." He murmured under his breath, as he punctured the IV bag and began to depress the plunger of the syringe.

At that moment Dr. Cromewell stepped into the room.

"And just what, may I ask, do you think you are you doing?" He barked out. "This patient isn't due for pain medication for another two hours. Let me see your identification right now."

The young man, jerked the syringe from the IV bag and spun to face the doctor, dropping into a half crouch almost like an animal at bay. The syringe fell from his hand and he snarled in fury.

Instantly, Calleigh jerked wide awake, scrambled for her weapon, drew it and trained it at the noise almost in one smooth motion.

For a split second, no one moved. Baleful brown eyes stared at the doctor and Calleigh and then in a flurry of motion, the young intern dashed past the doctor, shoving him violently against the door and upsetting a nurse and a medicine cart as he went. Immediately Dr. Cromewell began shouting instructions.

"Call security! We've got an intruder on the floor!" He shouted through the open door of the room. Then he brushed past Calleigh and jerked the IV bag from its holder, and quickly disconnected it from the tube that fed into Horatio's arm. He reached down and carefully picked up the still loaded syringe and placed it on the tray table along the side of the bed.

Outside the room an alarm began ringing. Several burly hospital security guards appeared as if by magic and converged on Horatio's room. One of them spoke to Dr. Cromewell.

"You called, Sir?"

"Yes, officer. We have an intruder on the floor, posing as an intern. He should be considered very dangerous."

"Do you have a description of the man, Sir?"

"I didn't get a really good look at his face, but he had curly, light brown hair, was approximately 6 feet tall, muscular build, late 20's to early 30's. I know that's not much to go on, but… Wait a minute. I did notice one thing about him. He had a tattoo on the right side of his neck. It seemed to be the points of a pitchfork, I think."

Calleigh's blood turned to ice in her veins. A pitchfork. Mala Noche.

"Did you say a pitchfork?" She asked as she jerked her phone from her pocket and pressed the speed dial for Frank.

He answered on the first ring.

"What's up, Cal?" his voice was gravely with sleep.

"Frank, we've got a Noche in the hospital. He just made an attempt on Horatio."

"I'm on it, Cal. Do we have a description?"

Quickly Calleigh repeated the doctor's description of the young man, making certain that Frank knew the man was posing as a doctor or at least medical personnel of some kind. When she was certain he was clear and focused she snapped her phone shut and turned her attention back to Horatio.

She was not surprised to see his one good eye wide open and frantically gazing in the direction of the voices he heard.

"Hello, Handsome" she said softly, hoping to distract him from the pulse pounding events that had just wakened half the floor.

The look in his eye told her he was having none of it. His lips moved and he managed to force out two garbled words. "…Wha…appened?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Frank left the waiting area in almost a trot, his eyes scanning empty corridors and peering into shadowy alcoves in search of the killer disguised as an angel of mercy. More than one person looked at him as though they were about to challenge his presence until they saw the gleaming MDPD badge clipped to the breast pocket of his jacket, then they respectfully moved out of his way and let him continue unimpeded. His searching took him through closets and darkened offices and into areas marked 'Authorized personnel only'. More than once he stopped a member of the hospital staff and questioned them closely. After multiple repetitions of the same questions he was convinced that no-one on the entire ICU wing had ever seen the young man in question. At length his task took him away from the unit proper and toward the exits.

He had just rounded the corner to the elevator lobby when he saw a young man standing by the doors. He was obviously in a hurry and kept shifting his weight back and forth, his eyes nervously hovering on the floor indicator of the descending car. _Curly brown hair, late 20's early 30's, about 6ft tall…_ but he was wearing street clothes. Not quite the description Calleigh had given Frank of their suspect.

Instinct told him otherwise.

Caution slowed the big detective's steps as he sidled toward the young man. He stopped just to the right and a little behind and did his best to see the side of the man's neck. At first he saw nothing. The collar of the man's shirt hid most of his neck and the expanse of skin that was exposed was smooth and unblemished by freckles or moles or anything else. Still Frank felt certain that this was their man, so he coughed lightly…an attempt to catch the young man's attention. The young man spun toward the sound and in that faction of a second, the material of his shirt shifted slightly and Frank saw the pitchfork tattoo. _Gotcha, you bastard,_ he thought and went for his weapon.

"Hold it right there…" he began.

Circumstance intervened at the worst possible moment when the elevator chimed its arrival. The young man literally flung himself backward against the metal doors and fell into the car as they slid open. Seeing the escape attempt, Frank threw himself forward as well and fell heavily on top of the suspect, only narrowly missing his foot being cut off as the doors snapped shut, trapping him in the car with the suspect.

What ensued was an epic wrestling match. The suspect was lithe, agile and slippery as an eel. Frank, somewhat older and heavier was hard pressed to keep the advantage as he struggled to keep the fight from getting out of hand. They rolled and thrashed on the floor of the elevator car as it descended. The car echoed with the sounds of the scuffle…grunts, gasps and curses bounced from the metal walls. One moment Frank had the man pinned, the next he was fighting for his life. A flying elbow caught him in the mouth and he tasted blood. That angered him and he redoubled his efforts, earning himself a volley of Spanish curses from the man.

"Cuss all you want..." Frank panted, "...you're goin' down, you Noche dog."

For what seemed like an eternity, he fought to bring the man under total control. Finally a well-placed knee into the man's kidney subdued him, and Frank snapped his cuffs tightly about the slender wrists. For a moment he merely sat there gasping, back against the wall trying to slow his breathing and his heart rate. Blood trickled from his busted mouth and he swiped at it angrily with the sleeve of his coat. He spat once and then with some effort he stood up and glared down at the young man. He huffed loudly once and then bent down, grasped the handcuffs and none too gently jerked the man to his feet.

"Now…as I was saying before the elevator interrupted us…." Frank snarled, "…you are coming with me."

"Are you the best they could send?" the young man snapped out contemptuously, gazing at the rumpled detective with undisguised disdain. "You're pathetic."

"Funny. I could say the same thing about you, dumbass." Frank retorted.

"I ain't got nothing more to say to you or anyone else."

"We'll see about that," Frank said and pressed the button to send the car back to the ICU floor.

Twice in their ascent the car stopped and the doors opened to allow other passengers in, but they were met by Frank's badge and a stern, "Official police business, please step back."

When they arrived at their floor, Frank roughly shoved the man out of the car and down the hall back toward the ICU area. As they walked, Frank pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Calleigh.

"Hey Cal, it's Tripp. I got 'im."

**A/N This is a much shorter chapter than I usually write, but it felt right to cut it here. **


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

A few more well-placed phone calls from Frank and the ICU waiting room soon took on the same crowded appearance of CSI headquarters. Several officers milled about talking in hushed tones and comparing notes on the suspect. The suspect sat slouched in one of the chairs, glaring at the floor and refusing to speak to anyone. Several of the officers tried to talk to the man with no success. They tried the time-honored and well versed 'bad cop, good cop' routine. That didn't work. Not even Frank's heavy handed, scarcely veiled threats prompted the man to do more than roll his eyes in a disgusted fashion and then resume his staring at the floor. It was obvious they would get nothing from him at the moment. Frank had just stood from the seat beside the young Noche when the waiting room doors opened and in strode Calleigh Duquesne. Her eyes held green fire and every step she took bespoke raw, seething anger and determination. Unbeknown to her, she presented a stunning picture, and more than one of the officers sucked in an appreciative breath at the vision that so forcefully joined them in the waiting room.

One of the officers whistled softly under his breath. "Man oh, man, I'd admit to anything if she'd interrogate me."

"Ditto that," another one echoed softly, his eyes traveling up and down Calleigh's graceful, slim body.

Frank followed their line of sight and felt his blood boil at the way they were visually undressing his colleague.

"Ahem!" Frank's one word reprimand jerked both officers' heads in the direction of the big detective. "Let's keep it professional, boys," he warned them.

The younger one had the good graces to blush. "Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir." He moved to the other side of the room away from the distracting vision of the lovely blonde.

Calleigh stopped directly in front of Frank.

"Good work, Frank. That's the one that bolted out of Horatio's room not 45 minutes ago."

"Well, we've got him on ice, Cal but getting him to say anything is a totally different matter. He refuses to talk."

"Oh, really? Let's see what I can do about that."

Calleigh stepped over to the young man and looked down at him. She didn't bat an eyelash when his eyes made a slow, sensual inspection of her from the shoes on her tiny feet all the way up to the golden tresses that crowned her head. His eyes narrowed slightly as they lingered for a moment on the full, tantalizing curves of her breasts. Then he raised his eyes to her face and fixed her with an insolent stare. Before Calleigh could utter a word he sat up and leaned toward her.

"So…they decided the heavy muscle wouldn't do the trick, and they're trying the smokin' hot blonde type now, eh? Okay, I can roll with that. Whaddaya want, pretty lady?"

"I want some answers from you." Calleigh ignored the man's wandering eyes and forced herself not to slap him into focus.

"Sure, muneca. For you I got all kinds of answers…but you gotta ask me the right questions." His tone of voice and the look on his face were mute evidence that he was thinking far more carnal thoughts than providing information pertaining to the case.

Frank took a threatening step closer to the man and clamped a heavy hand down on his shoulder, jerking him back into the seat. "Take it easy, Romeo. That's a lady you're talkin' to."

The man leered at Calleigh. "Oh, I know that, big man. I know that." He spoke again to her. "I can show you a good time like you've never had before…" the rest of his vulgar words never made it past his lips. Frank's hand closed like a vice around his neck.

"You filthy son-of-a-bitch!" Frank snarled. "You say another word like that to her and I'll show you the meaning of police brutality." 

"Frank! Stand down." Calleigh's voice jolted the big man to his senses and he tore his hand away from the young man's throat and stepped back.

"I need you clear and sharp on this one, Frank. Go cool off. I'm fine. One of the other officers can take him back to HQ for questioning and detainment." Calleigh's voice was cool and commanding, leaving no room for argument, and Frank nodded in deference to her wisdom, knowing that she was right. He started toward the exit, intending to leave the room. Three paces from the door, her soft voice called to him. He turned and looked back over his shoulder toward her. She moved toward him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. That brilliant smile blossomed on her face and he couldn't help but respond to her nearness. _Good lord! No wonder Horatio is head over for her,_ he thought to himself.

"You needed something else, Cal?" he asked.

"Thank you, Frank," she said softly. "I know you were just trying to protect me, and I love you for it."

A wave of crimson rolled through his face and his ears burned with embarrassment. He ducked his head for a moment and then looked back into her sparkling eyes.

"Yeah…well, I kinda gotta look after you until Horatio is back on his feet, you know…"

"You're a love, Frank Tripp." She winked at him and then linked her arm in his and walked with him toward the door.

"How about you head on back to the house and get some rest. You've been here for a long time, and I bet you're dying to get some shut eye."

"You know, that does sound mighty good, Cal. Mighty good. B'lieve I'll take you up on that. See you in a few hours, but you've got to promise me you'll call if you need me."

"I promise, Frank. Now go home. I'll handle it from here."

Frank tilted his head in a comical parody of their boss and planted his hands on his hips then intoned in his best Horatio Caine voice, "Yes, Ma'am."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Sunlight filtered down through the razor wire, casting sharp shadows across the prison common yard. Inmates milled about, separating themselves into several small groups. On one side of the yard were the Latin Kings. Over by the basketball goal, a group of Russian mob thugs huddled and talked. Nearest the chain link fence by the door stood the largest group of all…Mala Noches. The other groups could be seen to occasionally cast wary glances toward the Noches…wary and respectful glances. Word had spread quickly that 'Ortega' had been brought in, and all the young punk Noches were eager for a chance to prove to their ranking gang leader that they were worthy of their Noche ink. At length a lone figure separated himself from the group and began a slow walk toward the steel doors. The prison yard went almost quiet and all eyes followed his steps. Rafael Hernan Ortega commanded a great deal of respect and fear among the general prison population. Seemingly from nowhere a guard appeared and stepped to block Ortega's progress. A slight murmur went through the watching prisoners. Ortega, feeling the weight of so many eyes smirked to himself and continued walking straight up to the guard, stopping only when they were almost literally nose to nose.

"Officer Kendrix."

"Ortega."

"What have you got for me?"

"I've got some news, but you aren't going to like it." The man's eyes nervously darted toward the other prisoners and then back to Ortega's face.

"You let me decide that. Now, spill it." Ortega hissed.

"The bomb worked just as you planned."

"And Caine?" Ortega interrupted impatiently.

"Ah…he's in ICU. Critical injuries."

"STILL alive?" Ortega's eyes burned with fierce hatred. "I sent Diego to finish him off. What happened?"

"Diego is in custody. Some doctor caught him trying to kill Caine and he's in MDPD lockup right now."

Ortega pondered this news for a moment and then spat angrily on the ground. Then he took a step closer to the nervous guard and began to give him instructions.

"Okay, Kendrix…new deal. You don't want your wife and kids hurt now do you?"

"Please no, Ortega. I've done everything you asked. Please…I won't say a word to anyone, just don't make me do any more work for the Noches."

"Sorry, but you have no choice, unless you'd rather I send your kid to do the job."

Officer Kendrix turned white and stammered, "No…no….I'll do it. Just please don't hurt them."

"Now you're talking my language, man. Here's what I want you to do..."

Thirty minutes later a new set of instructions concerning one Lieutenant Horatio Caine had been issued from Hernan Ortega, and one very frightened prison guard descended into yet another level of personal hell, terrified for the safety of his family.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Calleigh sat by Horatio's bedside reading a ballistics journal. The information was included on the proficiency exam she was to take in two weeks and she had decided to take advantage of the forced down time to catch up on her study. She was totally absorbed in her reading until a small sound caught her attention. Looking over toward the bed, she saw Horatio watching her.

"Good morning, Handsome," she said, rising from her chair and bending down over him to place a soft kiss against his cheek.

"Calleigh" he whispered.

"You look rested. Do you want some ice chips or water?" She smoothed back that one lock of hair and was started when he shook his head rather more vigorously than she expected.

"No, Calleigh. I want some answers." He whispered as forcefully as he could. "What happened to me? What happened to my hand? Did I lose it?"

Calleigh took a deep breath, opened her mouth to begin speaking, and heard the voice of an angel from behind her.

"Well, look who's awake this morning." Alexx said and joined Calleigh at Horatio's bedside. "How do you feel, Horatio?"

"I feel like hell." He rasped.

Alexx chuckled, refusing to take offense at his irritable attitude. "That's to be expected for someone who's survived hell."

Calleigh smiled briefly at Alexx's light humor and then looked back at Horatio. "How about I let Alexx tell you what happened, Handsome? She could probably do a better job of explaining it than I can."

"Damn it, I don't care who tells me. I just want to know everything that happened to me and DID I LOSE THE HAND?" His emotional outburst caused a spasm of coughing and he closed his eyes at the pain that swamped him in fiery waves. His tortured lungs protested the exertion and he was left weak and trembling.

Alexx shook her head at his feistiness and waited until he had regained his breath before continuing.

"Now we know that it's not wise to get all worked up, don't we? I'll tell you everything you want to know, but you've got to promise not to do that anymore."

Horatio glared at his friend but finally nodded his head as best he could.

"Good. Now the main thing you need to know Horatio, is that you did NOT lose the hand…only one finger."

Emotion welled up in Horatio's one good eye and he turned his head away in a silent refusal to hear more, but Alexx continued. "You may as well listen to me, Horatio honey. Putting it off won't change the facts. You've got to hear it all sooner or later."

"NO." He ground out between clenched teeth. "Just leave me alone."

Alexx turned to Calleigh who had teared up as well. "Calleigh baby, I think it might be best if you let me do this alone. Go get a soda or a snack on and give me a few minutes with him."

"Alexx are you sure he…"

"Calleigh baby, you have to trust me on this one. I'll deal with it and he'll thank me for it in time. Now go. Trust me."

Raleigh searched the warm brown eyes of her friend and saw only love and compassionate understanding there. Finally she nodded and stepped out of the room, her heart breaking with every step.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Alexx waited until the sound of Calleigh's footsteps died in the corridor before she began speaking again to Horatio.

"Now look at me, Horatio Caine." Her voice allowed no disobedience and Horatio slowly turned his head back toward her, glaring at her as best he could with his head swathed in bandages.

"You have to hear the truth, honey…all of it. It won't be easy, but the sooner you wrap your stubborn head around it, accept it and deal with it, the sooner you'll be on the road to getting out of here. Now will you listen to me?"

Horatio nodded his head once. "Get on with it," he sighed.

For a moment, Alexx softened her stern gaze. This was one of her dearest friends in the world and it tore her up to see him lying so helpless and vulnerable, but she knew sympathy and pity would serve him no purpose, so she resolutely steeled herself not to show the softer emotions she was feeling. She sat down in the chair beside his bed and took his un-bandaged hand in hers and began.

"The right side of your body took the full brunt of the blast. You have a broken clavicle, three broken ribs, one of which punctured your right lung. Your right ankle is broken, and you have multiplied hundreds of penetrating wounds from the shrapnel created when the door exploded outward toward you. The largest piece penetrated into your abdomen and only narrowly missed rupturing your stomach. Dr. Cromewell also removed a large chunk of wood from your left shoulder. Your arm will be stiff for a while, but you will regain full range of motion eventually. Your face escaped major injury for some reason. I'm surprised that there weren't more injuries there. The eye is bandaged just as a precaution. No puncture injuries to the eye, but it was very irritated from the flash of the bomb and the smoke and debris, so Dr. Cromewell took the precaution of covering it just to prevent possible infection. "

"I ducked my head." Horatio spoke so softly that for a moment Alexx wasn't certain she'd heard him at all.

"What's that baby?"

"I ducked my head. That's why my face wasn't as badly injured as the rest of me," he whispered. "Some instinct from my old bomb squad days screamed at me just before I turned the key in the lock and I ducked my head to the side." 

"That would explain why your face was spared the severest of the injuries."

"Thank god Calleigh forgot her phone," he breathed.

"Her phone? What do you mean?"

He drew in a shuddering breath and coughed several times before continuing. "Calleigh and I were coming back from dinner. We had started up the walk together, but Calleigh left her phone in the front seat and went back to get it. If she'd have been with me…God, Alexx, she could have been killed."

"Yes, but she wasn't. And neither were you," Alexx tone was pointed and Horatio looked at her knowing the worst news was yet to come. He cleared his throat slightly and then nodded his head. "Alright, Alexx. Now tell me about my hand."

"From the extent of the injuries, it's pretty easy to determine that your hand was on the door knob when the bomb exploded. It's a wonder the entire hand didn't come off. As it is, the injuries are severe. Dr. Cromewell was able to save the hand itself, but he had to remove the pinkie finger. It was so damaged…burned ligaments and tendons, shredded muscles, bone crushed to almost powder…that he couldn't even begin to repair it. The other fingers were not as badly affected and he did a miracle job repairing them. You will regain use of the hand, but will have very limited range of motion. It will require months, perhaps even years of therapy to rehab that hand, Horatio."

"My gun hand." He muttered angrily. "How am I supposed to function without use of my gun hand?" He spat the words out.

Alexx had known this was coming and she let him vent.

"How the bloody hell am I supposed to…" he stopped and snapped his mouth shut.

"It's okay, honey. Just vent. You need to be angry about it. You need to feel some hate and desire for revenge. It will spur you. You will need that passionate anger to drive you to recover. I know you well, Horatio. That anger will motivate you to try and prove all of us wrong about your hand. And that's a good thing. But I caution you. Don't get your hopes up for a complete recovery." Here Alexx paused and gently gripped Horatio's chin in her fingers to force him to look her straight in the eyes. "The hand will never be the same. It will be functional, but you will never use it again to fire a weapon. If you can deal with that, accept it and go on, then you'll have an easier time. If not…"

"If not," he repeated bitterly. "If not…"

Alexx tenderly smoothed back the lock of hair that had once again fallen down over his face and then leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

"Do you want me to bring Calleigh back in?" She asked softly.

"No, Alexx. Give me some time alone, please. Tell her to go get some rest and to let the rest of the team know not to worry about me."

Alexx's eyes narrowed at his refusal to see Calleigh. She knew instinctively that the two of them were close on more than a working basis. And she knew instinctively that Horatio was withdrawing into his shell, seeking to avoid what he feared would be sympathy and pity from those closest to him, walling himself off from any emotion that would make him appear weak in their eyes.

"Horatio, don't do this. You need them now more than you've ever needed them, especially Calleigh. They don't expect you to be superman, so don't try to act like it. Let them in."

"Just go, Alexx. I'll be alright. Just go."

"Okay, I'll go, but I will be back…and so will the team."

Horatio turned his head away from her, refusing to acknowledge her presence any longer.

Alexx shook her head at his stubbornness and left the room. The road to recovery would indeed be long and lonely if Horatio had his way, but instinct told her the team would never allow him to walk it alone.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

In the silence that descended on the room after Alexx left, chaotic thoughts tumbled through Horatio's head, each one taunting him with her dark words. _You will never use it again to fire a weapon…you will never use it again to fire a weapon… _His left hand clenched into the bed sheet in as tight a fist as he could make, popping out tendons and muscles and turning his knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. Ice cold rage began to flow through his veins at the simple thought that Ortega had robbed him in such a way. Letting go of the sheet, he began to slam his fist into the mattress again and again, cursing Ortega with each blow.

"Damn, you, Ortega. Damn you for doing this to me… Damn you, damn you, damn you!"

His voice was still raspy from the hours he'd been force to breath straight oxygen and the lack of vocal strength angered him further. In his fury driven frenzy, he thrashed around on the bed in a futile attempt to raise himself into a sitting position. He succeeded only in knocking over the IV stand with his wild flailing. As soon as the metal stand began to fall he realized the error he'd made and did his best to keep it from toppling. He almost caught it, but it slipped from his grasp and as it crashed to the floor, it ripped the IV from his wrist, sending a lightning bolt of pain along his entire arm. Blood began to pour from the torn skin and he clenched his teeth against the very unmanly desire to cry out of sheer frustration.

The commotion brought him unwanted company in the form of a no-nonsense, stern nurse who came dashing into his room to check out the noise.

"What have you done, Lieutenant Caine?" she snapped. Her eyes took in the overturned IV stand and the blood pouring from his wrist; noted the wrinkled and wadded up portion of sheet next to that same hand and her expression softened slightly. "Now, Sir I'm sure they told you that some anger is a good thing in your case. It will help motivate you when you get into therapy…BUT…tearing out your IV is NOT the way to express it." She drew supplies from the roll cart in the corner of the room as she talked and quickly tended to his hand, wiping away the blood and stemming the flow before covering it with a thick pad of gauze. Then she picked up the IV stand and checked it to make sure it was still in working order and when it passed her careful inspection, she reinserted the needle into a different patch of skin on the inside of Horatio's wrist and taped it into place.

"Try not to tear this one out," she admonished him, "or we might have to restrain you."

All the while she worked, Horatio made no sound, no response to anything she did or said. He simply lay there. When she started to leave he did manage a curt, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Lieutenant. And remember what I said. Be mad, but take it out on something besides your IV stand." A twinkle of humor flashed in her grey eyes and then she was gone, leaving Horatio alone with his thoughts once more.

He glared at his relatively uninjured left hand. _Wonder how life will be as a lefty? _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning.

Officer Kendrix sat in his car, head down on the steering wheel, heart pounding and his palms sweating profusely. He had fought a wicked internal battle all evening long after his meeting with Ortega and had come to a decision, knowing that it could well cost him his life. He was desperately hoping it would keep his wife and children safe, at least until they could get back to Nebraska. He dressed in his uniform and strapped on his duty belt, but instead of reporting to work that morning he had called in sick and driven straight to MDPD headquarters with the intention of telling someone everything he knew. He scanned the area for long moments, searching for any clue that Ortega had men watching him. Seeing nothing that seemed menacing he slowly opened the car door and stepped out. Half way up the front steps he turned around to look back at his car and felt the hot breath of a bullet as it whizzed past his ear and plowed into the side of the building. Instantly he dropped prone and crawled as fast as he could toward the glass front doors. All around him people were screaming and crouching behind whatever cover they could find. A second shot rang out and he desperately jerked the doors open, lunged inside and yelled, "Shots fired out front!"

His desperate cry produced instant results. Several uniformed officers bolted for the entrance while one large, bald plainclothes officer pulled his phone from his belt and began barking out orders.

"Lock us down!" Frank ordered and then turned to the frightened prison guard lying on the floor. He reached down a hand to help the man up "Are you okay, Sir? Did you see who fired the shots?"

Officer Kendrix slowly pushed up from the floor, grasped the offered hand and stood to his feet.

"No, I didn't see who did it, but I can tell you who it was. It was Noches. Ortega's men."

"Oretga? Talk to me…oh by the way, I'm Frank Tripp."

"Kendrix. Devin Kendrix…and I probably signed my own death warrant by coming here."

"Well, we're sure gonna do our best to keep that from happening." Frank said as they walked. He opened the door to one of the interrogation rooms and motioned for officer Kendrix to be seated.

At that moment Frank's radio crackled. "_Hey Tripp, it's Eric_. _We've got our shooter on_ _ice_."

"Good work, man. Keep him in a holding cell until I can get there. I've got something going at the moment."

"_You got it_."

Frank looked at the obviously terrified young officer in front of him, noted the uniform he was wearing and said, "So you work at the prison?"

"Yes, Sir. I do."

"And you're certain Ortega's men are behind this?"

"Absolutely."

"How?"

"Ortega got to me less than 24 hours after he was brought in to prison. He has spies everywhere. He knows where we live. He knows where my kids go to school. He knows where my wife works. He even described the kids' playhouse in the backyard down to the scratched paint on the slide. I didn't know what else to do, but to try to make it here and tell you everything I know and beg you to keep my family safe."

"Is your wife at home right now?" Frank's voice was tense.

"Yes, she and the kids are…"

"Your address…I need it now," Frank interrupted tersely.

Quickly Officer Kendrix scribbled the address down on a piece of paper and handed it to Frank. The big man flipped his phone open and called Eric.

"Delko. Tripp. Listen closely. I need you to send two units to this address. This is a top priority welfare check. If the residents are at home, you are to immediately bring them in for protective custody. If they are not we need to put out a BOLO on them."

"_I'm on it man_."

Frank flipped his phone closed and turned back to officer Kendrix.

"Now. Tell me everything you know."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Officer Kendrix lifted frightened eyes to look up into Frank's kind face and saw nothing but calm encouragement there. Instinctively he knew he had no choice but to trust the man and the police to protect his family, yet the fear of Ortega's long reach taunted him. He knew the gang leader could very easily strike out from behind the very walls of prison and kill at will.

"I have to know that you will protect my family." Desperation roughened his tone.

Frank reached across the table and patted his hand in a comforting manner. "We will do everything in our power to keep them safe."

"Okay…here's what I know. I know that Ortega wants Lieutenant Caine dead. He sent Diego to the hospital to kill him after he found out that the bomb didn't do the job as planned. Diego was supposed slip into the hospital disguised as an intern and put the stuff into the IV bag. He's also planning a hit on some others in the police department."

The poor man's eyes kept darting nervously to the activity outside the windows of the glass room as though he expected to see Ortega himself coming for him. "God, he knows I'm here. I'm a dead man. Please...help me."

"Can you give me the specific names?" Frank's eyes bored into the man like lasers, and the poor terrified prison guard flinched and ducked his head, biting his lip in frustration.

Frank shook his head and leaned forward in his seat.

"Listen, man I don't want to do this to you, but here's the deal. You came to us for help. You have information about the prime suspect in the attempts on Lieutenant Caine's life. You just admitted that you know of other plans to commit felony murder. If you clam up now and withhold information, that will make you an accessory after the fact. Come on, man. Just give me the names. You don't want any lives hung around _your_ neck."

Officer Kendrix blew out a loud sigh and hit the table with one fist before he answered. "I don't know their ranks, but the names I heard were Duquesene and Delko."

Frank almost exploded up from his chair and jerked his phone from his belt, flipping it open with one smooth move. He pressed a speed dial number and began talking almost immediately.

"Eric. You need to get your ass back to PD ASAP!...No time for questions, just come in. And Eric. Watch your back."

His next call was to Calleigh, who had gone home for a brief respite from her vigil with Horatio.

His face grew worried when the phone rang and rang and finally went to voicemail. He hung up quickly and called Natalia.

"Boa Vista, Tripp. I need you to do a welfare check on Calleigh. We've had some information come in that she is in danger and will probably need eyes on her 24/7."

"You got it, Frank."

Frank turned back around to see Officer Kendrix watching something or someone very intently. He followed Kendrix's gaze and saw a uniformed officer leading a very attractive brunette and two small children toward the interrogation room. A light sprang into the man's eyes and happy tears began to course down his face.

"Gloria, Steven, Lilly…" Officer Kendrix rose quickly from his chair and dashed toward the doors only to be brought to a sudden stop when the outer glass wall exploded into a shower of sparkling glass.

"Damn it, not again!" Frank cursed, as he flung himself at Kendrix, throwing him to the floor and pinning him beneath his large bulk. He scrabbled for his radio and began barking orders into it. "SHOTS FIRED! I REPEAT, SHOTS FIRED FROM OUTSIDE THE BUILDING!"

In his desperate attempt to get to his wife and children who had also been flung unceremoniously to the floor by their uniformed escort, Officer Kendrix kicked and squirmed, trying to free himself from the crushing weight of the heavier man who was half lying on top of him to shield him from any further gunshots.

"Be still man! Don't you realize just how dangerous these bastards are? They won't quit. You've been here less than an hour and they've tried twice to kill you. Now keep your ass down." Frank growled as he continued holding the man down out of the line of exposed windows that were now open to the outside air and who knew what all else.

"But my wife...my kids..." Kendrix pleaded.

"They're safer here than they would be at home. At least here they have PD protection."

Finally in a show of utter resignation, Officer Kendrix stopped trying to free himself from Frank's sheltering bulk. "Just please don't let them die. I don't care if Ortega gets me, just keep my family safe."

"Nobody's gonna die. We'll see to that," Frank muttered, hoping with all his heart that MDPD could keep that promise.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Calleigh sat quietly by the side of Horatio's bed, her troubled green eyes watching the slow, even rise and fall of his chest. He was sleeping thanks to the drugs in his system and was blessedly unaware of the violent events taking place at MDPD. Several hours before, the nurse had come in and removed the bandage from his uninjured eye, so Calleigh had an unrestricted view of his face. His forehead was creased with what seemed to be worry. His lips were pressed tightly together in a grim, straight line. His jaw muscles bulged with tension as he clenched them tightly even while he slept. It was such a heartrending sight that Calleigh felt tears well up in her eyes again for seemed to be the millionth time. Whether he was still in some pain from the injuries or whether he was dealing with some deep subconscious vein of worry and anger that the drugs couldn't mask, she did not know. What she did know was that the sight tugged at her heart and she reached out a tender hand to caress his face, wishing with all her heart that she could take away the pain and the wounds and the scars she knew would linger forever. The moment her fingers touched his lips, his eyes sprang open and he fixed her with a fierce glare.

He coughed once, cleared his throat a couple of times and then rasped out, "Calleigh, why are you still here? I thought I gave Alexx orders that everyone needed to go home."

Pain flashed across Calleigh's face at his brusque tone of voice and then disappeared behind the normal brilliant smile she always wore.

"I'm not going anywhere Handsome, so you might as well get used to seeing me here." She reached again to touch his face and he jerked his head aside, moving himself away from her intended caress.

"GO HOME, CALLEIGH." Horatio's voice was harsh and unyielding. "I don't need your pity."

"If you hadn't already been there, I'd tell you to go to hell, Horatio."

Calleigh's voice held the same iron resolve as his, and it jerked his gaze back to her face. She'd never spoken to him in that manner before. Indeed, if she had ever used that kind of language with him he would have written her up on insubordination. It certainly captured his attention and made him angry.

"I beg your…" he began, only to be stopped short when Calleigh stood up from her chair, leaned over him and launched into a fierce tirade of her own.

"You listen to me, Horatio Caine. I'm here for two reasons. The most important one is I love you, damn it. I WANT to be here with you. I don't pity you, nor do I feel sorry for you…you're doing a damn fine job of that without my help, so don't accuse me of that. The second reason is that we've had multiple attempts on your life and I'll be damned if I leave you alone right now when you need me. I know you don't want to admit that, but you need me. You need all of us right now and that bullish, redhead stubbornness refuses to let you acknowledge that fact. But I'm here, so you might as well deal with it!"

All during Calleigh's angry verbal barrage, Horatio watched the green fire dancing in her eyes, the high color that came and rested in her cheeks and the indomitable spirit that lent heat to her words,and he was reminded again of just how much he loved her. The ghost of a smile hovered over his cracked and bruised lips.

Calleigh saw it and snapped at him, "So you think it's funny, do you?"

"No, Sweetheart…I think it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You're gorgeous when you're angry about something." His eyes lingered on her face in a caress that his injured hands couldn't give her.

Calleigh turned her back to him and then spun back around face him. "Then I must be the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, cause I'm angry enough with you right now to finish what the Noches started. Damn your stubborn sense of pride."

By now hot, angry tears were coursing down her face and she angrily dashed them away. The sight sent a pang of remorse through Horatio's heart and he softened a bit.

"Calleigh, Sweetheart…I'm…I'm sorry. I know you love me…and I love you, desperately…it's just that…"

"Just what!" she almost yelled. "Just what, Horatio?"

"It's just that I'm not a whole man any more. And you deserve so much more than a tired, old…"

"Don't you say another word…" Calleigh snapped, "…unless you intend to add self-centered, self pitying, whining…"

Just when Calleigh had worked herself into a fine frenzy of anger and passion, the door opened and in walked Alexx with Dr. Cromewell. They both took one look at the two occupants of the room and disapproval instantly registered on both their faces.

"Calleigh, baby, what's going on?" Alexx scolded her gently, taking her by the arm and leading her away from the bed and toward the door.

"Ask him!" Calleigh snapped, jerking her arm from Alexx's gentle grasp. "I'm going home. He doesn't need anyone or anything but his own supersized ego and sense of self pity. I've wasted enough time on him. Someone else can play babysitter. I'm done!"

Calleigh turned and stormed away down the hall, leaving Alexx wondering how in the world this breach was going to be repaired.

Quietly she stepped back into the room and looked toward Horatio. His eyes were closed and his breath came in ragged hitches. He was valiantly fighting to hide the fact that he was crying, but Alexx saw all to well the ravages of his verbal altercation with Calleigh.

"Horatio, Horatio," she murmured softly. "Honey, you've done a fine piece of work haven't you my friend?"

Dr. Cromewell sized up the situation and wisely decided to leave his patient in the tender care of one who knew him better. Dr. Woods would handle the situation much better than he could, so he quietly he left the room and closed the door behind him.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Alexx looked down at her dear friend and her heart turned over with painful compassion. Here lay one of the most powerful men in the city of Miami…flat of his back, injured, and unable to revolve in his normal sphere of command and influence. It hurt her to see him so humbled, but she determined not to let him wallow in self pity.

"Horatio Alger Caine, listen to me."

Horatio turned his head toward the wall in a stubborn show of resistance.

Alexx was having none of it. She reached out, gripped his chin, and forced him to turn and face her. His eyes radiated impotent fury. Alexx simply stared at him and did not flinch away from the intensity of his gaze.

"Horatio Caine, you hear me and hear me well. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met; not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. I refuse to believe that a minor thing like a lost finger is going to make you an emotional invalid for the rest of your life. And I also refuse to let you shut out the very people who are trying to help you."

Horatio snorted, but did not look away. "Help me? Did you see her face, Alexx? There was pity all over her face, and I can't accept pity from anyone, least of all her." His words were heated and sharp, hurtful, but Alexx clearly heard the current of pain that rain swift and sure beneath the brusque tone. "She felt sorry for me, Alexx."

"Of course she did. What else did you expect from someone who loves you? She felt sorry for you, but she also felt certain that you can beat this if you'll just stop pushing away the hands that are reaching out to you. For gods sakes, honey you were blown up by a bomb. Anyone would need help after that kind of trauma. It's not demeaning to admit that you ran up against someone and something that got the best of you one time. You're human, or have you successfully forgotten that very important fact?"

Horatio sighed and closed his eyes. "I can't afford to be human, Alexx. Everyone expects me to be superman. I've done it for so long now that I even expect it of myself. I don't how to accept less, even when I'm physically incapable of being everything to everyone." He opened his eyes, raised his bandaged hand and shook it in front of his face angrily.

Two crystal tears welled up in Alexx's eyes. "Oh, Honey. None of us expect you to be the do all and end all. You've placed that burden on yourself."

Blue eyes locked with brown ones and clung to the offered absolution. "I just…" he mumbled around the sudden lump that grew in his throat.

Alexx smoothed back his hair and leaned down to place a tender kiss on his forehead. "I know, baby. I know. But you need to understand that we love you regardless…especially a certain blonde haired ballistics expert who left in tears not too long ago." The words were a reprimand, but very gently spoken and Horatio took them with good grace.

"You're right, Alexx. I was cruel to her." He looked at his friend. "Do you suppose it would to me any good to call her?"

"I think it would be the very best thing you could do," Alexx smiled at him and pulled his cell phone from the tray next to his bed. She handed it to him and then said, "I'll be back after my rounds this evening, and I want to see a smile on your handsome face."

For a moment Horatio hesitated then he reached out with his good hand and drew Alexx down close to his face. His lips moved softly over her cheek and he whispered in a choked voice, "Thank you for being such a good friend, Alexx. I…love you."

Alexx sniffled and grinned in spite of her renewed tears. "Now you cut that out, Horatio Caine, or you'll have me bawling like a baby."

"Can't have that, now can we?" He quipped.

"No, we can't," she agreed. "Now make your phone call. I've got rounds to make."

Horatio waited until the door closed behind Alexx and then he flipped open his phone and ran his thumb over the keypad. Quickly then, before he could change his mind, he pressed the speed dial number that he knew by heart and raised the phone to his ear. He listened anxiously as the phone rang once…twice…a third time…_Serve me right if she lets it go to voicemail…_he thought bitterly and was just about to press the end button when he heard the connection go live. His heart thundered in his chest and his mouth suddenly went dry.

"_Duquesne."_

His tongue refused to cooperate for several agonizing seconds, but finally he managed to force out a hesitant, "Hello…Sweetheart."

Silence stretched over the line and Horatio thought she was going to hang up on him, but then he heard her sigh.

"_Hello, Horatio."_

She wasn't going to make it easy on him he knew, so he took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

"Calleigh, listen. I was…I was wrong to treat you like I did. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Unseen by Horatio, silent tears began slipping down Calleigh's face as she heard those words from the lips of the man she loved with all her heart.

"_Oh, Horatio,_" she almost sobbed into the phone, _"…there's nothing to forgive. We're all on edge right now. I said some pretty awful things to you too. I'm sorry, my love. So sorry."_

"Yes…well, I still shouldn't have spoken to you like that." He refused to let her ignore his bad behavior. "I don't suppose you could…" he stopped speaking and Calleigh heard uncertainty in his voice.

"_Yes, Handsome?" _

"I don't suppose you could be talked into coming back up here could you?" Horatio's voice took on a warm, appealing tone, and Calleigh felt heat spread through her from her toes to the crown of her head.

"_I'll be back in about five minutes, Handsome. I just went to the cafeteria to cool off. There was no way I was going to leave you alone all night even if I had to sleep in the hall instead of by your side."_

"Sweetheart," he breathed. "Would you really have done that for me?"

"_You know it, lover."_

"I love you, Calleigh." His husky declaration soothed the verbsal wounds he had dealt her earlier.

"_I'll be there soon, Handsome." _


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Horatio lay in bed, eyes closed and smiling after his brief conversation with Calleigh. Just the sound of her voice had lifted his wounded spirits to the point that he no longer felt the crushing weight of despondency. He knew he had a long, long road ahead to recovery, but it seemed just a little less daunting with the assurance that Calleigh would walk it with him. His mind drifted pleasantly over the one brief but intense moment they'd shared before that fateful turn of the key that put him where he was…flat of his back and immobile.

_Her skin was so soft, and her kisses intoxicating. The luscious curves of her young, firm body had delighted him beyond measure and he greedily memorized every detail, from her silken hair to her satin soft skin, all the way down to her tiny feet. Her scent had almost driven him mad with desire. The alluring scent of jasmine and vanilla was indelibly burned into his memory. And her sweet lips…pure nectar and ambrosia… The soft, liquid heat that surrounded him as he had…_

The opening of the door brought his pleasant daydream to a crashing halt, and Horatio realized, much to his embarrassment, that he was thoroughly, totally aroused, a fact that was painfully obvious by the raised portion of the sheet that draped his body from the waist down. Quickly he raised one knee to hide the evidence, desperately hoping that his visitor would not notice his current physical state. When he saw who was standing in the doorway he blushed furiously.

"Hello, Handsome."

"Ahem…ah…hello, Sweetheart," he stammered, his ears turning bright red.

Calleigh walked toward the bed and her eyes widened at the crimson stain that covered Horatio's face.

"Horatio? What's wrong? You look flushed. Are you okay? And why do you have your leg up like that?"

"Ah…well…um…"

"What is it, love?" Calleigh's voice was filled with concern and she crossed the distance to his bedside with quick steps.

Her nearness escalated his discomfort and he squirmed in an effort to alleviate the growing pressure between his legs. Certain parts of his body remembered all to well the heavenly feel of her body next to his and it was all he could do not to throw the covers aside and beg her to give him some relief.

"Ah…Calleigh…ah…"

She smoothed a tender hand over his forehead and he groaned aloud.

"Okay, Horatio Caine. You need to tell me what is wrong or I will call for Alexx."

"Oh god NO! Don't call Alexx…" he whispered.

"Then tell me what is wrong, so I can help you, Handsome. Are you hurting, or…"

Calleigh's words died in her throat and bright crimson stained her face as Horatio slowly lowered his leg back down to the bed and she saw the unmistakable evidence of his need for her.

"I see…" she managed to choke out between giggles. "You wanna tell me how this happened, Handsome?"

"Well…I was…Um…I was thinking about…was thinking about…" He stopped, unable to voice the words.

Calleigh seemed to understand and smiled broadly at him. She bent down over the bed and kissed him lightly, which did nothing to soothe his discomfort. Her lips teased his open and her tongue skimmed over his before withdrawing again, leaving him hungry for more. Nuzzling his forehead with hers, she whispered softly, "You were thinking about us making love in your office, weren't you, Handsome?"

"God, yes, Sweetheart," he moaned.

"Hold that thought, Handsome," she murmured. She gave him a broad wink and then stepped over to the door, closed it and locked it from the inside. Then she stepped back over to the bed and deliberately caught Horatio's stunned gaze.

"Now…let's see what we can do about you being so…hard on yourself…" she giggled at her own pun and slid her hand beneath the sheet.

"Calleigh..." he gasped out her name as she found her target.

"Now just relax and let me take care of you, love."

Time ground to a halt and the universe held its breath it seemed as Horatio let everything melt away except the feel of Calleigh's hand stroking and caressing him. Involuntarily his hips bucked upward and pain intruded on his bliss. A groan gurgled from his throat and Calleigh stopped momentarily.

"Too much, Love?" she asked softly.

"God no, don't stop, but…" he stopped, ashamed to admit that he could do nothing to help.

"But what, love?"

"Calleigh, I can't help…it hurts to move my hips…I'm sorry, Sweetheart…maybe this wasn't such a good idea…"

"Shhh…relax… let me do all the work. All you have to do is enjoy."

And with that she drew back the sheet, licked her lips and smiled.

"Oh, my god…" he breathed, not knowing if he could take what he knew she had in mind. He knew he might die of elevated blood pressure, but what a way to go. He started to speak, but the sudden feel of marshmallow soft lips closing over him drove out all thoughts but the pleasure she was giving him and he surrendered to her touch. Closer and closer to the edge of release she drove him until he gasped out, "Calleigh…oh god, I'm almost there…" Another quick flick of her tongue and he lost his grip on reality and spun off into a galaxy of ecstasy so intense it took his breath away. Forever it seemed, his body trembled as pleasure cascaded through him. At last he was able to draw in a shaky breath and relax back against the bed. His hair was damp and so were his sheets and pillowcase. He lay there spent, exhausted and totally content.

"Feel better, love?" Calleigh asked quietly.

"That has to be the understatement of the year Sweetheart," he chuckled weakly.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The lingering afterglow of passion satisfied sat plainly on Horatio's face and Calleigh smiled down at him tenderly. This was the first time since the awful ordeal had begun that his face had not been marked with shadows of worry and lines of stress and pain. Leaning over, she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and nuzzled him gently.

"You look relaxed Handsome," she whispered.

"Hmmm. I think a certain blonde headed angel had something to do with that," he murmured and moved to raise his good hand to caress her face. His fingers trailed gently through her hair and curved to the back of her neck, allowing him to pull her closer for a loving kiss. Their lips met and clung, birthing an urgency not to be denied in spite of their location and Horatio's condition. Just when Horatio would have pulled Calleigh into bed with him to do his best to satisfy her needs, the door knob rattled and then a key was inserted firmly and it was unlocked.

"Damn!" Calleigh giggled. She scrambled up off the bed and hastily jerked the covers back over Horatio's nakedness. She only barely succeeded before a very stern faced Alexx Woods walked into the room. Her entire countenance was a mask of displeasure.

"Horatio Caine, what on earth have you been doing, or do I want to know? And who locked this door…as if I needed to ask." Alexx groused, eyeing Calleigh fiercely. "The vitals monitor lit up like a Christmas tree on overload." The sternness in her tone was only slightly softened by the honest care and concern in her brown eyes.

"Ah…well…Cal came to visit and…"

"Uh huh," Alexx interrupted. "Cal came to visit. And what else?"

Horatio turned beet red to the tips of his ears and closed his eyes to shut out the sight of a very displeased Alexx Woods in full doctor mode.

"I'll deal with you later, Calleigh Marie. Ought to have you put out of the hospital for exciting my patient so. You could have brought on a heart attack."

"But what a way to go," Horatio muttered under his breath.

"What's that, baby? You want to go? Well you keep on fooling around like that and you'll go alright. You'll go to isolation with no visitors except me and Dr. Cromewell. How would that suit you, you stubborn redhead?"

"But Alexx, you're the one who told me to call her," Horatio protested.

"Call her, yes…but have un-advised sex, NO."

Both Calleigh and Horatio flushed violent crimson and Calleigh turned her back toward her dear friend, fighting wave after wave of embarrassment.

Alexx looked at them sternly. "Did you two honestly think I wouldn't know what was going on in here? I set up a separate video-link to this room just for my own personal security." Alexx paused for emphasis and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing outright at the looks of absolute mortification that transfigured both Horatio's and Calleigh's face

"You saw us?" Horatio choked out.

"Oh my god," Calleigh squeaked.

"You two put on quite a show…ought to have you both arrested for public…"

She never finished her sentence.

Klaxon alarms split the air and a strident voice came over the intercom.

"_All personnel, this is facility is being locked down. Please follow emergency procedures. I repeat this facility is on lockdown. Please follow your emergency procedures_."

"Damned Noches!" Calleigh cursed aloud, removing her .45 from her holster and edging toward the door.

"And just where do you think you're going, honey?" Alexx quipped, whatever lightness she might have felt gone at the first tone of the alarm.

"I need to see…"

"You need to stay right where you are and keep an eye on Horatio." Alexx countered. "This staff is well trained, baby. Let us do our jobs and you do yours. Protect this man at all costs."

"Pardon me…" Horatio's voice broke through the women's conversation. "Can a man get a word in edgewise here?"

"What?" Alexx and Calleigh both snapped at the same time, turning to level twin glares at him.

"No fair double teaming me." Horatio growled.

Both women looked at each other and shook their heads. Horatio could be so stubborn at times.

A noise at the door whipped Calleigh's head around and brought her weapon to bear, finger resting firmly on the trigger.

Muffled shouts and yells could be heard from the corridor just beyond the closed door and Calleigh readied herself for...

Whatever she was preparing for, the sight of Natalia Boa Vista charging through the door was not what she expected. Quickly she holstered her gun and stepped toward her friend.

"Nat, my god I almost shot you!" Calleigh gasped. "What's going on?"

"Calleigh we've got serious problems," Nat panted out as soon as she was able to catch her breath. "The Noches have declared all out war on the team. We have to move Horatio."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Alexx looked at Natalia as though she'd just declared her undying love for Randy North.

"Do you realize just how dangerous that would be for Horatio?" Her voice was incredulous. "He's just out of major surgery."

"If we don't move him the Noches will kill him."

"Not if I have anything to say about it…" Calleigh began and brandished her weapon at an unseen foe.

"EXCUSE ME…" Horatio barked out as best he could in his weakened condition.

Conversation ceased momentarily, three sets of fierce female eyes turned toward him and the indomitable Horatio Caine flinched.

"Now ladies…" He began in an effort to soothe ruffled feathers.

"Save it, Handsome. You're in no condition to argue this one way or the other. You can't even…" Calleigh yelped when Alexx's foot connected with her ankle.

Alexx grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from Horatio's bed and slightly out of hearing range. "Think about what you're saying, Calleigh baby," she hissed. "He's already wounded enough without you adding insult to injury."

"But Alexx…"

"As you so eloquently told him…SAVE IT, and let me deal with this." Alexx's tone brooked no argument. She reached into her pocket for her phone and had halfway dialed Dr. Cromewell's number when the door rattled again.

This time two weapons were brought to bear. One pair of green eyes stared down the barrel of a .45 and a pair of chocolate brown ones sighted the length of a 9mm. Without speaking Natalia edged closer to Calleigh, and Alexx stepped in front of Horatio's bed to shield him from whatever might be attempting to harm him.

The door opened and Calleigh only barely controlled the impulse to squeeze the trigger. She blew out a gusty breath at the sight of an MDPD officer she knew and trusted.

"Tristan, thank god you're here! What's the situation?"

"Ladies. Lieutenant Caine." He greeted them in turn and then looked at Calleigh. "The Noches have literally dared us to stop their plan to kill Lieutenant Caine as well as yourself. We have the hospital locked down and there is a veritable army out there, but you know the Noches. They've already made two attempts on Lieutenant Caine and two attempts on the main witness against them. Who knows where they'll stop? One thing's for certain…this Ortega guy won't quit until either he or Lieutenant Caine is dead."

He stepped close to the bedside and looked down at Horatio. "Sir, Officer Tripp requested that I bring this to you." He opened his jacket and withdrew Horatio's own service pistol, placing it on the bed by Horatio's good hand.

"You're a good man, Tristan. Finally someone is making sense around here." Horatio grumbled as he reached for his weapon with his left hand.

"Much as I hate to admit it," Calleigh said with a grim look of agreement, "I think Frank had the right idea. If the Noches do manage to get someone past our defenses, at least Horatio will be armed. They won't be expecting that."

All this time, Horatio lay and listened to the urgent flow of conversation without speaking. He gripped the gun in his left hand, and hefted it, testing it for balance and handling. Something that he had taken for granted all his professional career was suddenly gone from him and he was faced with re-learning an old skill. Normally the gun felt like a simple extension of his body. Now it felt bulky and awkward, a clumsy appendage over which he had little control. Gritting his teeth with determination, he slipped the safety off and thumbed the hammer back. The process took several seconds…much longer than he was used to. He eased the hammer back down, clicked the safety back into place and repeated the process…safety off…hammer back...aim… His fingers fumbled with the trigger guard and he dropped the gun. It fell harmlessly to the bed.

The epithet that erupted from his mouth startled everyone in the room. Even in the direst of circumstances no one had ever heard him use that type of language to that extent. It was a testimony to the extreme level of frustration he felt.

"Easy, Horatio. Cursing like a sailor won't help you. Try it again...slow...steady..." Calleigh encouraged him.

Ice blue eyes impaled her with a fierce glare, but he picked the gun back up and tried again. This time he managed to successfully handle the weapon without dropping it.

"Again." Calleigh commanded.

"Damn it, Calleigh..."

"Again, Horatio. Do it again or I don't give you the clip for it."

"What! It doesn't...what do you me...how dare you give me an unloaded weapon!" Horatio snarled, completely enraged at the deception that had been perpetrated on him. In truth he was angrier that he hadn't noticed the lightness of the gun when Tristan had first handed it to him. Never had he let such an obvious detail slip past his notice.

Tristan saved Calleigh from having to explain. "Sir, I slipped the clip to her when you were trying it out. Didn't want to risk your accidentally shooting something or someone. I'm sorry, Sir. Officer Tripp's orders."

"Officer Tripp's oders," Horatio snorted.

Natalia stepped up to the side of the bed and leaned down toward the angry redhead. She stopped when her face was mere inches from his.

"Horatio do you trust this team?" She whispered softly.

"That's an odd question, Ms. Boa Vista. You know I do." His answer was as softly spoken as her query.

Ever aware of the watchful eyes on her, Natalia reached up and stroked one hand over Horatio's forehead in a gentle caress. "Then let us take care of you right now. You've done so much for all of us over the years. It's our turn now, Horatio. Trust us to do the right thing."

Natalia's gentle, calm tones mollified the fury in him and he drew in a deep breath. "You're right. I've got to let the team do this. Lord knows I certainly can't."

Unseen, Alexx shook her head in wonder. Natalia had accomplished what neither she nor Calleigh had been able to. His admission of need was a major step along his road to recovery. Now all they had to worry about were the Noches.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Chaos reigned supreme at MDPD headquarters and everyone milled about, talking animatedly, gesturing grandly and in general accomplishing very little. The only thing certain was that there was indeed one shooter who had been apprehended. He had been taken just as he had sprinted across the street, heading toward the highway and escape. The second shooter had vanished as suddenly as the shot that had almost felled officer Kendrix. Frank barked out orders to those around him, marshalling the troops so to speak, but without a clear plan of attack or even hazy knowledge of exactly whom they were dealing with, the orders were reactionary at best.

He stayed long enough to see that Kendrix, his wife and children were whisked away to a secluded safe house in the city, and then he barricaded himself in his office and went to work on figuring out just how Ortega had managed to get the orders out to kill Horatio, Calleigh, and Kendrix.

"Sorry sonuva bitch is a damned slick operator," Frank muttered to himself as he leafed through file after endless file, looking for a clue, even a tiny connection to someone besides Kendrix who was in contact with Ortega and could carry out his murderous plan even with him incarcerated. He was halfway through the third go round with the latest arrest file on Diego, whose full name was Miguel Diego Martez when Eric knocked on his office door and stuck his head through the door.

"Any luck Frank?" he asked.

"Hell man, I've had better luck with wives than with solid information on this guy."

Eric grimaced sympathetically, chuckled and then opened the door completely to let himself in.

"Want some help reading?" Eric offered.

"Help yourself. There's plenty to read," Frank groused, shoving a large stack of papers across the desk at the big Cuban.

Eric took the stack of papers, sat down in the chair opposite Frank and began to scan through old arrest records and other items relating to Rafael Hernan Ortega. Three quarters of the way down the 10th page relating to an arrest in 1999 for drug possession, he stopped, sucked in a stunned breath and then blew it out noisily.

"Hey Frank, I think you're gonna want to read this."

"Whatcha got, Eric?" Frank got up, stretched his arms and legs and came around to Eric's side of the desk.

Worlessly, Eric handed him the file and pointed to a line of text that he had highlighted.

"Look at the name of the arresting officer,"

Frank's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, "Well I'll be damned. I think it's time we go have another talk with this fine upstanding officer of the peace. Seems to me he's been withholding information." 

"Seems to me you are right, Frank."

The Hummer rolled past block after block of seedy, overgrown houses in a questionable section of the city. It finally came to a halt in front of one of the larger, marginally better kept residences in the neighborhood.

Frank and Eric knocked on the door and were met by a scruffy, ill-dressed man.

"ID please," he asked in a crisp voice that was not in keeping with his appearance.

Twin badges flashed in his face and he nodded and stepped aside. "Officer Tripp, Delko, come in."

"Thanks, Marvin. How are things going?" Frank asked as they moved through the foyer and into a seemingly bland hallway.

"Quiet so far. I don't think Ortega's men will find the witness here."

Marvin pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked a wooden door. It opened to reveal a hidden solid steel door.

"I need you to sign in, boys." Marvin handed them an electronic tablet and a stylus and crossed his arms, waiting patiently.

Eric scribbled his name first followed by Frank's all but illegible scrawl and finally, Marivn keyed in the code and the steel door slowly swung open to the interior of the house.

As Frank and Eric stepped into the lavishly appointed great room, they caught sight of Officer Kendrix quickly pocketing what looked to be a cell phone.

Frank stepped aside and spoke quietly to Marvin. "I thought outgoing calls were restricted to uniformed personnel only."

"They are. Why?"

"I could swear I just saw our witness shove a phone in his pocket as we were walking in."

"A phone? Where did he get a phone? You collected his personal phone for evidence and I know he didn't bring one with him." With that, Marvin started in to the room, only to be restrained by Frank's big hand landing on his shoulder.

"Let it play out for now. Eric and I need to talk to him. We'll see if we can get him to come clean about that among other things."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"Trust me. I'll get more out of him with the element of surprise."

Marvin closed and locked the door behind Frank and Eric, effectively sealing them in the room with the witness, and settled back down into his easy chair in the foyer.

Officer Kendrix turned at the sound of the approaching officers and for a moment a look of sheer terror crossed his face. That expression was quickly replaced with one of welcome.

"Officers, I can't thank you enough for bringing me and my family to safety."

"Don't thank us just yet." Eric said softly.

"What? What do you mean by that?"

Again the look of fear danced in Officer Kendrix's eyes and this time he was not as successful in hiding his expression.

"What he means," Frank said as he moved to stand in front of him, "…what he means is that you've been withholding information from us. Information that could help us with this case."

"Really, I don't know what you're talking about. Ortega threatened me, and you think I have something to do with this other than being the victim?"

"How about 1999? Drug arrest on Rafael Hernan Ortega. Young, green officer on duty that day made the biggest arrest of his then rookie career. Sound familiar, Kendrix? Or did Ortega buy your memory as well as courier services in prison?" Frank's voice dripped with contempt.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Cold sweat beaded out on officer Kendrix's forehead as he stood there face to face with two very angry MDPD officers. Icy fear coated his tongue and his lungs burned with each breath he dragged into his lungs. A million chaotic thoughts kalaidescoped through his brain, each one more frightening than the last. He saw himself captured and tortured by Ortega's men, saw his children captured and murdered, saw his wife as she struggled against brutal violation by a gang of Noches…All of these images he saw in the space of a panicked heartbeat. More terrifying were the subsequent thoughts of himself behind bars, facing the very men who had once paid him to betray his badge and honor for them. He knew they would have no mercy on him or his family. His chances were better with the two officers in front of him.

Finally he raised tormented eyes to those of Frank Tripp and sighed. "I don't need a lawyer. I'll tell you everything."

"Well now, what makes me think you're gonna tell us the truth this time, smartass?" Frank growled. His hands were balled up at his sides and he desperately wanted to give Kendrix a swift uppercut.

"Because now you already know part of the truth. You'll find it all on the phone here." Kendrix said, handing over his cell phone to Frank. "In a way, I'm glad you found out. This double dealing was taking a toll on me."

"On YOU?" Frank spat out, taking a step closer to the trembling prison guard. "On YOU? My best friend and the leader of this team is laying seriously injured in a hospital bed, blown half to bits by a Mala Noche bomb, and you think it's taking a toll on YOU?"

"Easy Frank," Eric cautioned. "Let him talk. We'll get more out of him that way."

"Well he'd better start talking in a hurry, cause I'm ready to lock him so far away it would take a shotgun to get sunlight to him."

Kendrix gave a defeated sigh once more and then sank down onto the couch, indicating that Eric and Frank should join him. Eric settled at one end of the couch and Frank took the other end which placed Kendrix in between them.

"Now talk." Frank snapped. "And what I hear better be useful."

Ortega sat at the dinner table surrounded by several Mala Noche toughs, the members of his personal body guards. It was mildly concerning to him that he had not heard back from Kendrix on the hit he'd ordered for Lieutenant Caine and the blonde officer. _A pity,_ he thought. _That blonde is one hot piece of real estate. I'd like to get my hands on her for a little while. Show her what a real man can do. _His thoughts darkened significantly as they drifted toward Lieutenant Horatio Caine. The man should have been dead already, but was still among the living thanks to a botched hit by one of his most trusted thugs. Diego would have to be taught a severe lesson, one that he would never live to have to learn again. Ortega set his tea glass down and cleared his throat. Instantly eight sets of eyes lowered their gaze to the table and all conversation ceased.

"Salazar."

"Yes, jefe?," one of the men spoke up quietly.

"I want you to find out why Kendrix hasn't checked back in with me."

"I'm on it."

Salazar rose to leave the table, but stopped when Ortega spoke again.

"And Salazar…I'll kill you if I don't like the information you bring me."

"Yes, jefe." He whispered.

"Now the rest of you get lost. I need to think."

Like shadows fleeing light, the Noches left the table as quickly as they could, making their way to the exits on both ends of the prison cafeteria. Only one older man remained with Ortega and he seemed in no hurry to escape the presence of the irritable gang leader.

Ortega looked at his brother and smiled. "They fear me, Manolo."

"As well they should, hermano. You are a ruthless man. Were you not my own flesh and blood I would fear you too."

For a moment, a murderous light sprang up in Ortega's eyes, but he tempered it and chuckled.

"You know I would never raise a hand against family, Manolo. Now go. It would not be good for you to be truly associated with the Noches. We both know that this life is not in your blood and never will be. Our mother raised only one fool and it wasn't you."

"Hernán…if only."

"Go, Manolo. Don't give me reason to validate their fear. I'd hate to have to kill you."

"Be careful, hermano." Manolo stepped aside from the table and slowly walked away from the only family he had left in this world.

Ortega watched him and shook his head, an emotion almost akin to regret stealing through his veins. His brother was as good hearted as he, Ortega, was wicked. It was only a cruel twist of fate that had landed them both in the same prison. Life had dealt Manolo a losing hand, and from the moment he'd crossed the border he'd been presented with a series of choices, none of them good. He'd done the best he could, but with few jobs to be had he had often resorted to petty theft to feed his family The law was not kind to those who stole, even if it was to feed his wife and children and so he was here behind bars. Ortega on the other hand had chosen his life of drugs and guns and violence for the power and money it brought him. He thought of no one but himself and knew he deserved his incarceration.

Silence surrounded Ortega and he snorted in irritation. Personal reflection always goaded him into a foul mood, and this time was worse than usual. His mind insisted on pointing out to him the possibilities that had been there for him had he chosen a different path. He was brilliant and a hard worker but had put his talents to ill use and here he was, wearing prison orange and chained like a common animal. Rage erupted through him and he slammed his fists repeatedly against the smooth surface of the table.

"Take it easy in there, Noche."

"Vete a la mierda, cabrón!" Ortega snarled. Lunging up from the table, he stormed toward the guard, only to stop in his tracks at the sound of the pump action shotgun being readied for firing.

"Do it." The guard urged him. "Do it. I've always wanted to waste a Noche."

Ortega's face lit up with a cruel smile. "Someday you may get the chance, but not today."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Manolo's brown eyes focused like lasers, watching as the piece of metal in his hand grew sharper and more lethal with each pass over the exposed concrete block at the rear of his cell. Painstaking hours of work had yielded a four-inch sliver of metal coerced from the underside of his bed frame. It was shorter than he wanted for his purposes, but would have to do. Again and again he drew the metal over the rough concrete. The harsh rasping sound of metal against stone somehow soothed his troubled conscience. After the last conversation with his brother, he had determined to do everything in his power to stop Hernán's murderous rampage through Miami even it if meant killing him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Frank sat back with a huff and shook his head in disbelief.

"Just how the hell did you think you could play both sides of the fence without getting caught in the crossfire?"

"It wasn't that hard until my family was threatened," Kendrix said in a trembling voice. Once caught in his double dealing, he had come completely clean with Frank and Eric and had produced valuable information, facts that could be used against Ortega in a number of cases previously unsolved as well as the one they were currently working.

Eric looked at him without sympathy. "You played us." His voice dripped venom. "You worked both angles and then had the guts to come crying to us for protection when Ortega threatened your family. You're pathetic!"

Kendrix had the audacity to look insulted and Frank glared at him. "Don't give us that innocent look. You're about as innocent as the devil himself. And let me tell you something else. If anyone on this team dies because of your stupidity, I'll hang murder one around your neck so tight it would take a crowbar to get it off."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Horatio lay in bed ignoring the three agitated females and one anxious MPDP officer in the room with him. Calleigh, Alexx, and Nat stood off to one side talking in animated fashion while Tristan stood guard at the door. Over and over again, Horatio lifted his weapon from the bed, slipped the clip in one-handed, released the safety, aimed and mock fired. Clip, safety, aim, and fire. Clip, safety, aim and fire. Clip, safety, aim and…

"Horatio, honey, you don't have to re- master it all in one day." Alexx's voice was only slightly exasperated.

Horatio's acid reply shocked everyone. "I don't? I'm lying here, blown to bits with my gun hand shattered. The Noches have put out a standing order to kill me and you think I've got plenty of time? When do you propose I learn, Alexx? Maybe after my funeral service?"

"Horatio Caine, you stop it right now. You are not going to die. This team won't let that happen. And what's more, we will not allow you to sink into this dark hole of self pity and bitterness that you are determined to wallow in. Snap out of it! We are tired of the pity party. It's bad enough that we have to deal with the Noches without having you acting like a crybaby. Just stop it already."

"Okay, both of you back off," Calleigh barked out at Horatio and Alexx. "And Horatio I don't want to hear another…"

The knocking at the door startled all of them into silence.

Bringing his weapon to bear, Tristan barked out, "Identify yourself."

"It's Dr. Cromewell," came the slightly muffled voice from the other side of the door.

Calleigh and Nat both stepped to the side of Horatio's bed, shielding him with their own bodies. Again both women's weapons locked on the door and stayed rock steady.

Alexx went to the door and began speaking. "Walter, do you remember the company picnic we had last month at Stingray Cove Beach?"

Puzzlement etched itself all over Calleigh's face and she turned to Natalia with a bewildered look. _Picnic? Beach? ? _Her look seemed to say. Natalia's expression was equally confused.

"That's an odd question to ask, Dr. Wood," The voice from the other side of the door said. "But yes I remember it well."

Suddenly it all became clear to Calleigh. _The man on the other side of the door was NOT Dr. Cromewell! Dr. Cromewell would have known that Alexx had an "s" on the end of her last name. "It's not Cromewell!" _She whispered to Natalia.

"Then you…" Alexx said, motioning Tristan to keep his gun leveled at the door, "…are NOT Dr. Cromewell. Dr. Cromewell wasn't at the picnic. He was in Barbados, AND his name is not Walter."

Curses could be heard and then with no warning bullets began punching through the door. Calleigh and Nat both returned fire as did Tristan, but without being able to see their target, they were literally shooting blind. Wood splintered under the impact of the bullets that flew in both directions. One of the wicked little messengers of death struck Tristan in the lower abdomen and he crumpled to the floor, blood pouring from the wound. He grasped his radio and keyed the talk button.

"All units in Miami General respond." (gasp) "Shooter in vicinity of Lieutenant Caine's room. Officer down. Requesting back up." ( cough)

The stricken officer dragged in one more painful breath and then lost his bid to stay conscious, sliding down to the floor in a quiet heap. Alexx, who had flung herself out of the line of fire quickly knelt and grasped Tristan's arms, pulling and tugging until she had his body moved almost entirely into the corner. "I really hate these bastards," she muttered as she began rummaging in the drawers of the storage cabinet next to the door. Her search produced several large gauze pads and quickly she tore four of them open. Without stopping to pull on gloves, she ripped open the front of his shirt, wrestled the Kevlar vest away from his chest and pressed the gauze firmly against the gunshot wound in Tristan's stomach.

"Fish in a barrel," Horatio muttered.

"What?" Calleigh responded. "What do you mean by that?"

Nat added her own query to that of Calleigh's. "I don't understand, H."

"Fish in a barrel. It's pretty clear don't you see. Whoever is on the other side of that door managed to get past the security forces of both MDPD and the team. We're trapped, Calleigh. Well and truly trapped. No way out…except to shoot our way out."

Calleigh considered this for a moment looked at Natalia and then shook her head in agreement.

"Then we shoot our way out."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

Diego made sure no one saw him as he slowly slid the leather belt he was wearing from his belt loops. The bars of the holding cell looked solid enough. He slid the belt around one of the bars and buckled it, leaving several feet of stained rawhide dangling free. Quickly he wrapped the leather around his neck in a sort of noose and twisted it tight into a crude knot. He lay down on the bench and closed his eyes. His last thought before he threw himself bodily to the floor was a mental plea for understanding from his baby sister.

The belt tightened, jerked him to a halt and snapped his neck, instantly killing him.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Metal sliced through skin leaving a thin ribbon of crimson. Quickly the ribbon widened and became a rivulet, which became a stream. Manolo grunted with satisfaction and wiped the sharpened piece of metal on the underside of his shirt sleeve near his armpit. The stain would be less noticeable there. He tore off a piece of toilet paper from his dwindling roll and clamped it around the cut he had made in his finger. Twice he had to repeat the process before the bleeding stopped altogether. Once he had staunched the blood flow sufficiently, he set about looking for a good hiding place for his makeshift knife. His eyes darted here and there about his cell, searching for a place that only he would be able to detect. Finally he found what he was looking for. A crack in the plaster of the corner of his cell was just wide enough to admit the piece of metal, yet not wide enough for it to fall through and be lost completely. Since the metal was almost the same shade of grey as the plaster, it would be almost invisible to someone if they weren't looking diligently for it. His calloused fingers carefully wedged the weapon into the crack. Now he needed only to wait for the right time to bring it forth for its deadly purpose.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Every piece of furniture that could be moved was piled in front of the splintered hospital room door. Calleigh and Nat had vigorously discussed the possibility of shooting themselves out of the room, but decided on the hold the high ground approach instead. Horatio had finally grudgingly agreed with them, acknowledging that if they left to go for help, he would be left alone with only an unconscious MDPD officer and Alexx for protection. He lapsed back into glowering silence and began going through the motions of dry firing his weapon over and over again.

Calleigh checked her weapon for what seemed to be the thousandth time and re-holstered it. She had expended 8 rounds from her clip during the initial firefight with their unidentified attacker, and knew that they wouldn't survive another extended battle with the Noches. Knowing that their hope lay in backup arriving quickly, she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Eric's number. The call went straight through to voicemail.

"Damn it, Eric. Pick up the phone!" she muttered.

"No luck?" Natalia asked, looking up from helping Alexx as she tended to the injured Tristan.

"Nothing. It just goes straight to his voicemail. Something must be wrong with his phone."

She had just made the decision to call Frank when a quiet knock sounded from the other side of the ruined door.

"Alexx? Officer Duquesne? Is everyone okay in there?"

"Dr. Cromewell?" Alexx called, momentarily ceasing her ministrations to the wounded officer lying on the floor.

"It's me, Alexx."

A broad smile creased Alexx's worried face and she nodded at Calleigh and Nat.

"I recognize his voice. It's Dr. Cromewell. Move that stuff so he can get in. Tristan needs help."

Quickly Calleigh and Natalia moved the piled furniture away from the doorway and then cautiously eased the splintered door open.

It was indeed Dr. Cromewell who stood on the other side, and he smiled at the sight of the two weapons that were leveled straight at his head.

"Are we glad to see you," Calleigh said, and lowered her weapon. Natalia followed suit and slipped her gun back into its holster.

"Looks like it's been more than a little rough, ladies," he commented, stepping inside the room and assessing the situation with a quick glance. He chuckled when Calleigh responded, "Dr. Cromewell, you have no idea."

"Horatio, are you okay?" He asked.

"I've been better, but yes, I'm okay."

"Good. Then I need to see to this man at the moment, since he is in the more immediate danger." He turned his attention to the yet unconscious Tristan, kneeling down at his side and inspecting the temporary bandage Alexx had placed over the gunshot wound to the abdomen.

"Good work, Alexx. Your quick reaction saved him. If he had lost any more blood he would have died. It will still be touch and go, but at least he has a chance of pulling through."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After the upsetting interrogation with Kendrix, the ride back to MDPD headquarters was tension-filled and quiet. Both Eric and Frank were lost in their own private thoughts concerning the man who had betrayed not only Horatio and the team, but the entire brotherhood of law enforcement. They were still three blocks away from MDPD when Frank's cell phone rang.

"Tripp." He answered gruffly, then almost wrecked the Hummer as he choked out, "What the… How the hell did he hang himself?" He reached for the lights and siren and flipped them on, then he floored the accelerator, sending the Hummer surging through the light as it turned from yellow to red. He ignored the cacophony of car horns behind him as he sped toward MDPD, still talking, almost yelling, into his phone. "I want to know who was on duty? Somebody's gonna pay for this." He snarled, ended the call and jammed the phone back into his jacket pocket.

Eric, whose eyebrows had climbed to his hairline, asked, "Do I want to know what that was about?"

"This whole damned thing just keeps getting worse. Diego, the first Noche that tried to kill Horatio in the hospital, somehow managed to get a belt into his holding cell and used it to hang himself."

Fifteen minutes later, Frank shook his head in disgust as he knelt by the body of Diego de la Torres. Knowing he'd probably come up with nothing, he nonetheless pulled on gloves and rifled through the dead man's pockets looking for anything that might be evidence in the case, somehow missed when Diego was first arrested at the hospital. He had almost given up, when he felt the edge of a small slip of paper, deep in the pocket of Diego's shirt. Quickly he pulled it out and unfolded it. Smudged writing covered the surface of the tiny scrap of paper and Frank struggled to decipher the words. After some squinting and a good amount of cursing under his breath, he was able to make out three letters of the first word "Cro…". The rest was illegible.

"Cro…" he muttered under his breath. "Wonder what the hell that could mean? Hey, Delko, take a look at this and tell me what you think it says."

He handed the paper to Eric, who looked at it for mere seconds before sucking in a startled breath. Chills ran up and down his spine at the implications of the smudged word on the paper he held.

"Frank, we've got to get word to the hospital ASAP. This word is "Cromewell."

"What?" Frank spluttered as he hefted himself from the floor and back into a standing position again.

"Cromewell, Frank… as in DR. CROMEWELL…Horatio's surgeon. Either he's in with the Noches, or he's next on their hit list!"

Frank grabbed the arm of the startled young MDPD officer who was now standing guard over the holding cell and the body of Diego and issued a terse order.

"If anyone makes a move toward this cell other than Dr. Loman, myself or one of the other CSI's, you are to shoot them on sight. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I hope so." Frank growled and stepped out of the cell, slamming the grate closed behind him with a resounding clang. "Come on, Eric. We've got to get to the hospital."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

The Hummer's tires screamed in protest as Frank drove like a man possessed, headed for the hospital and Horatio. The possiblity of Dr. Cromewell being connected to the Noches in some malevalent way lent a double sense of urgence to the big man's driving and he pushed the SUV to its limits. Eric, who was just as anxious to get to Horatio and Calleigh, clamped his hand around the arm rest and hung on for dear life as Frank literally took the last corner on two wheels. Lights flashing and siren blaring, the Hummer skidded to a stop at the main entrance. Taking only enough time to kill the engine and pocket the keys, Frank vaulted from the driver's seat and slammed the door behind him. Eric was close on his heels. They both flashed badges at the security officers as they sprinted through the lobby toward the farthest bank of elevators. Frank's thick fingers drummed impatiently on the butt of his gun as they endured the elevator's slow upward journey.

"Damn thing's slow as Christmas," he muttered as he watched the numbers scroll by.

Finally the car slowed to a stop at their floor and both men drew their weapons and stepped toward the doors before they even began opening.

Eric took point, stepping out into the hall with his gun at the ready, sweeping the area in slow arcs. "Clear," he called quietly to Frank who followed three paces behind him, his own gun out and ready. Without need for further words, both men began a slow movement down the hall opposite each other, checking storage rooms and offices. There seemed to be no one on the entire floor until they came to the main nurse's station where a pair of young nurses sat busily pecking away at their computers. One of them smoothered a startled gasp when she looked up and saw Frank standing mere feet away with his gun pointed straight at her.

"MDPD. Get your hands where I can see them," he barked out. His sharp eyes had noticed the odd fact that neither computer screen was on, in spite of the fact that both nurses were pretending to be hard at work inputting data.

Unseen by either Frank or Eric, the pretty black headed nurse moved her knee slightly under the desk and pressed a hidden buzzer that sent a signal to a well-concealed and seldom-used room in the basement of the hospital. She smiled nervously then and raised her hands above her keyboard, lifting them to shoulder level.

"What seems to be the problem, officers?" Her voice trembled a bit on the last syllable.

"Seems to me that your computer is malfunctioning, Ma'am." Frank answered sourly. "Now step out from behind that desk nice and slow and keep your hands where I can see them."

Eric trained his weapon on the blonde and motioned with it for her to stand and step clear of the desk as well.

Both women looked at each other and the blonde gave a slight, barely discernable nod. She looked at Eric for a moment and then reached into the open neck of her blouse and tried to withdraw whatever object she had hidden inside her bra.

Frank's gun spoke once and the blonde toppled to the floor, her white silk blouse marred by the spreading bloodstain just over her heart. Her partner screamed and tried to run only to be thrown to the floor by Eric who launched himself at her in a flying tackle. She was deceptively strong however, and fought like a tiger until Eric finally succeeded in subduing her. He roughly forced her over onto her face, jerked her arms behind her back and snapped his handcuffs on her. He scrambled up off her back and hauled her to her feet, regardless of her hiss of pain at the strain on her arms and shoulders.

"Hey! Take it easy…no need for police brutality." she whined at Eric's less than gentle treatment of her.

"Shut up!" he snarled, "Unless you want to end up like your friend there."

The black haired beauty shuddered at the sight of her dead partner and stopped resisting.

Frank, meanwhile had covered his hand with his handkerchief and delicately reached into the woman's blouse. He withdrew a matte black Smith and Wesson, snub nose .38 special.

"Well now ain't that a pretty toy?"

His eyes fell on the exposed swell of the woman's bosom and saw a tiny version of the all too familiar Noche pitchfork.

"Noche," he said with disgust. "I'll bet the place is crawling with 'em."

"Guessing aren't you, big guy?" came the sarcastic remark from the black-haired woman.

Frank eyed her with an emotion closely akin to loathing in his eyes. "Not for long. You'll talk."

"Not likely," she grinned insolently.

An evil grin spread over Frank's usually kind face and he stepped close to the woman and lowered his voice for her hearing alone.

"Do you know that the Noches do to former members turned informants?" he whispered.

All color drained from her face and she gasped, "Oh, god no. You wouldn't. Please, no…"

"Then tell me how many more Noches are here in this hospital, or you'll be mincemeat after they've finished with you."

"Okay, okay. There are three more. Raul is in the basement. I sent him a message to get out. There's a…a buzzer that he installed under the desk… a silent alarm to his workroom."

"Description?" Frank snarled.

The woman gave the description and then sighed. "It's no use he's long gone by now." 

"Not if I can help it," Eric snapped, and jerked his phone out. He dialed in to MDPD headquarters and put out a BOLO for their suspect.

"Okay, you said three. Gimme the other two and make it snappy."

"Joachim is at the security desk on the 8th floor. He's a techno whiz and has an extra monitor wired in that only he can access. He's been watching ever since Lieutenant Caine was brought in for surgery. He told Diego when to make the first attempt and he gave the order for the one that's going down right now."

Again Eric barked orders into his phone, sending out the call for an immediate search and arrest order.

"What the…?" Frank grabbed the woman by the lapels of her blouse and shook her violently.

"I want answers and I want them now!" he bellowed. "Who else is in this damned hospital?"

"You'll have to find that one out on your own, big guy. I'd rather face the Noches than him when he's angry."

"Are you stuck on stupid? Give me the damned name, or…"

The sound of gunshots from the far end of the hall interrupted Frank's threat and he spun in that direction. He dropped the woman unceremoniously into the chair she'd been seated in, and grabbed his radio, keying the talk button as he did. "This is Officer Frank Tripp! We have shots fired on the **** floor of Miami General in the vicinity of Lieutenant Caine's room. All personnell respond! I repeat shots fired near Lieutenant Caine!"

Frank jammed his radio back onto its belt clip and started in the direction of the shots. Eric followed him after securing the woman to the arm of her chair with a second pair of handcuffs.

"Don't go anywhere," he said with a smirk.

When they reached the end of the hall, Eric and Frank stopped and positioned themselves in the doorway of a closet several feet short of the door to Horatio's room. Frank's eyes widened at the sight of the splintered wood and obvious gunshot damage. Slivers of wood lay on the tile floor, and chunks of plaster hung loosely from the walls and ceiling surrounding the door.

"Looks like they had an all out war in there, Delko," he muttered quietly.

"Yeah. The only thing you can't see is who won." Eric's voice was worried.

Taking a dead bead on the door, Eric called out, "Miami- Dade Police. Come out with your hands in the air."

From the other side of the shattered portal, a strained voice answered, "Eric? Eric is that you honey?"

"Alexx? Alexx Woods?" Eric called back, his weapon never wavering.

"Yes, Eric, it's me, Alexx. Am I ever glad to hear your voice."

Quickly, Eric and Frank put away their weapons and waded through the debris toward the voice of their former ME.

A couple of quick tugs on the handle and the entire door fell free of the frame and collapsed to the floor, sending sheetrock dust billowing out into the air. When the dust finally settled, a sobering sight met the eyes of the two men.

Alexx stood in the middle of a literal war zone. Calleigh lay sprawled out face down and still on the floor. Her .45 lay just inches from her fingers. Natalia half sat and half reclined in the chair, blood pouring from a wound in her shoulder. Officer Tristan lay unconscious on a makeshift pallet in the corner of the room, his chest and torso swathed in makeshift bandages. Horatio lay in the bed, eyes closed, brow furrowed and his left hand tightly clutching his service weapon. Spent shell casings littered the floor and the acrid smell of cordite hung in the air.

"What the hell happened, Alexx?" Eric said as he carefully picked his way over the bodies that litered the floor. He stopped when he stumbled over the last form that lay partially hidden under the hospital bed.

Dr. Cromewell lay dead on the floor, a gunshot hole between his eyes. Still clutched in his lifeless hand was a syringe filled with dark yellow liquid.

"That's not medicine, is it Alexx?" Eric asked quietly.

"No baby it's not. If he'd succeeded in giving Horatio that shot it would have killed him." She shook her head and gave a little snort. "And here I thought I knew that man."

Frank looked down at him and shook his head. "I guess now we know how his name came to be in Diego's shirt pocket. He was the third Noche our lady friend warned us about."

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

While Frank made the requisite phone calls and Alexx called in the services of additional doctors to deal with the wounded, Eric took crime scene photos of the room, including one of Horatio's weapon clutched tightly in his left hand.

"I still don't get it, H," he said after he snapped the pic. "How did Cal and Nat end up wounded when Cromewell only had the syringe meant for you?"

"Cromewell fooled all of us, brother. He knew we'd trust him completely so there was nothing to stop him from coming in and finding and using a weapon of opportunity, in this case Tristan's service pistol. When he knelt to help Alexx I saw him slip the gun from the holster to put it into his lab coat pocket." Horatio sighed and looked over at Calleigh who was as of yet unconscious and being mothered by Alexx.

"Before I could say anything to warn her or anyone else, Cromewell cracked Calleigh on the head with the butt of the gun and then turned and shot Natalia. Thank god I'd been practice firing with my left hand. I had my own weapon hidden under the sheets, but Cromewell didn't know it."

"Well, I'm glad you had some practice under your hospital gown, so to speak," Eric said with a grin. "You were spot on with that shot, H. That bullet was dead center between his eyes, a teriffic shot with either hand."

A fleeting smile danced over Horatio's lips and he glanced down at his weapon. The gun still felt odd in his left hand, but he had just proven to himself and everyone else that he could function in spite of the loss of motion in his right hand. Perhaps there was hope after all.

A soft groan from the other side of the room drew the redhead's attention in that direction and he watched anxiously as Calleigh moved and tried to sit up, only to be gently restrained by Alexx.

"No, baby. Lie still until the interns bring another bed in for you. You've most likely got a concussion, possibly a minor skull fracture. Now lie still." The soft comforting tones turned into scolding as Calleigh ingnored Alexx's advice and struggled to her feet.

"Calleigh Marie Duquesne, just where do you think you are going?

Calleigh swayed unsteadily and stumbled the few steps toward Horatio's bed. Her face was deathly pale and her breath came in ragged gasps.

"Handsome?" she slurred. "Are you…are you okay?" Her death grip on the bed rail was the only thing that kept her on her feet.

Horatio laid his gun down on the bed and reached to caress the side of Calleigh's face. "I'm fine, Sweetheart, just fine. Now let Alexx take care of you. Can you do that for me?"

Alexx stepped behind her and took her by the arm to turn her around.

"Will you listen to the man, honey? You need to lie down and let me have you seen to."

"S'okay…I can walk," Calleigh took one step and would have fallen had Eric not reached out and caught her around the waist.

"Sure you can, Cal, but let's get you a ride anyway." He steered her toward the door just as the bed was rolled into the room. Finally the tenacious blonde submitted to the indignity of lying down on a hospital bed and the waiting interns wheeled her out the door and down the hall two rooms to the right.

Much millling about and talking continued with the group of officers and CSI's gathered in Horatio's room. Finally, Alexx took command and raised her voice so that she could be heard above the din.

"Alright everyone, I want quiet."

All eyes turned toward her and everyone respectfully stopped talking.

"That's much better. Now I know this is an active crime scene, but it's also my patient's bedroom for the foreseeable future, so I'm asking you to hurry and finish whatever short term job you have here and then leave him to rest. He's had quite a trying day to say the least."

Horaito raised his eyebrows and smiled at Alexx's show of control. "YOUR patient?" he quipped.

"Yes, MY patient, honey. I'm officially taking over your treatment from here on out unless you'd rather me find you another replacement?" She looked pointedly at her dear friend.

"Ah, no thank you, Alexx. I'm perfectly comfortable with you as my doctor."

Several of the officers chuckled at that comment, and one of them winked at Horatio. "Good luck, man." He said, grinning from ear to ear.

"You think I'll need it?" Horatio chuckled.

The officer sobered somewhat and looked at Alexx, and Frank, then shifted his gaze to Eric and then looked back at Horatio before he answered. "I think you've already got it. You have the best people on the force beside you and that's the best luck anyone can have. Talk to you later, Lieutenant Caine."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

An hour after leaving the hospital crime scene, Frank sat across the table from the frightened young woman who had watched her blonde partner die and refused to feel any sympathy for her. She had thrown in her lot with the Noches and was dealing with the very unpleasant consequences of a bad decision.

"I'll do whatever you say, just don't tell the Noches I've turned informant. They'll kill me."

"That right?" Frank snarled sarcastically. "You shoulda thought about that before you hooked up with that bunch. But here's what you do for us. You call your buddy Joachim and set up a meet with him. Tell him that something with the Caine hit has gone sideways and that you have word from Ortega to meet him at the old warehouse out on 16th and Coral Avenue tonight at 7:00."

"But…

"NO BUTS. You wanna live? You do what I tell you or I'll put you in a cell with one of them and let them dish out their own warped discipline."

"Okay, okay. I'll call him."

Frank handed the woman her confiscated cell phone and watched her hawk-like as she dialed a number she obviously knew well.

"Joachim…it's…it's me, Isabella. Listen, I have word from el jéfe that we need to meet tonight at 7:00 at the old warehouse on Coral. And Raul…no one is to know. The hit on the redhead fell through and Ortega needs his best back up plan. Diego and Celia are dead, so is Cromewell. Sí, sí at 7:00. Aye..adios."

"There now, that wasn't so hard was it?" Frank asked when she ended the call. After the mind boggling events of the last 48 hours, the big Texan was feeling much less than charitable toward anyone even remotely connected with the Mala Noche gang, and his sarcastic tone of voice spoke volumes.

"You know I just signed my own death sentence, don't you?" she asked, raising fear clouded eyes to look at Frank's scowling visage. "They'll find out that I helped you and then nothing you can do will be able to stop them from finding me and killing me…or worse."

Frank snorted and fixed her with a hard stare. "Listen, there ain't a Noche born that can get the best of this team, so don't you worry on that account, although if you ask me, the city of Miami would be better off without a few of you low-lifes."

Frank looked at her with disgust and then motioned for the female officer who was standing just inside the door of the interrogation room.

"Now go with this officer and let her fit you out with the wire for this meet. Do exactly what you're told and you might live. If you don't…" here Frank's usually kind face took on a malevolent expression, "…if you don't, I guarantee you won't make it past 7:30."


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

**( Never in my wildest dreams did I ever envision this story going this far. LOL That will teach me to plan a "simple" extension of a story when Athena has totally different plans.)**

As soon as the female officer and the very unwilling informant left the room, Frank pulled out his phone and made several phone calls. The first was to Ryan who answered on the first ring.

"Talk to me, Frank."

"I need you at the old warehouse on 16th and Coral at 5:00 tonight, set up and ready to go for a meet. Hide in the catwalk above the warehouse floor. It's abandoned, so you may have to take bolt cutters to get in. Have MDPD ready with back up, but keep them outside out of sight. And listen, I want you to park away from the building and go in on foot. I don't want anything like parked county vehicles to spook these guys. They are our link to Ortega. We get them, we get him dead to rights." Frank added under his breath. "Personally I'd just like to get him dead."

"What was that, Frank? I didn't catch that last part." Ryan snickered.

"Never mind the last part. Just get moving. This meet happens at 7:00 and we have no room for screw ups."

"I'm on it. Oh and Frank?"

"What Ryan?" Frank's voice held an exasperated edge by now.

"I'd rather get him dead too."

"Smartass." Frank grumbled into his phone and severed the connection.

After three more calls concerning the meet with Ortega's men, he called the hospital to check on Horatio and the others. Alexx answered and gave him a brief rundown of the events, assuring him that Horatio had received no further injuries and that Calleigh and Natalia would be just fine but were staying a few days for observation.

"Take good care of them Alexx." He groused with deep affection for his friends. He hung up and ran one hand over his face as if wiping away the tiredness and irritiablility that had descended on him like a dark cloak. He knew he'd been very hardassed about the whole deal but damn it, these were his closest friends that had been injured and they were as good as family to the big Texan. You hurt one of them and you personally offended him.

"So help me, I'll get you Hernan Ortega if it's the last thing I do." Frank vowed under his breath.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dusk settled over the city casting its dimness and shadows over the landscape. The old warehouse stood silent and waiting, a mousetrap baited and ready for a rodent to wander by. Ryan, who had been hiding in the catwalk for almost an hour, checked his watch again and smiled grimly. Only 15 more minutes and the meet would take place. Settling himself more comfortably he waited. At precisely 7:00 the tall, corrugated metal doors groaned and slid partially open with a metallic grating of protest.

"Ready in the nest?" Frank's voice spoke quietly in his ear.

"I was born ready, Frank." He answered.

"Save the theatrics. Keep your eye on things. We don't want them dead unless they start a firefight. In that case empty your clip."

"Did I just hear you say empty your clip?" Ryan's voice was slightly shocked.

"You heard me. Now just shut up and keep your eyes open."

The single ray of dim light that stabbed through the swirling dust of the old warehouse seemed to focus on the three figures who cautiously walked to the center of the vast empty building.

Finally Isabella spoke and Frank heard pure unadulterated fear in her voice. For a split second he felt a micron of pity for her, but dismissed it in a heartbeat. She deserved to be scared.

"Joachim? I thought I told you not to tell anyone. And you brought Raul? El Jefe was very clear. No one but you, Joachim."

"What am I? Chopped dog food?" Raul protested. "I have as much right as anyone to be here."

"I can only tell you what HE said, Raul. He said only Joachim."

Joachim took a step toward Isabella and placed what was meant to be a placating hand on her shoulder. "Bella, you know Raul is totally loyal to el jefe. Trust him. You know you can."

Isabella looked nervously this way and that as though she expected to see Ortega himself materialize from the shadows.

"Okay, it's like this…" and she proceeded to outline the plan that Frank had drilled into her memory.

"Good girl," he muttered softly under his breath. "You might live to be 25 after all."

Just as Frank was allowing himself to relax a bit with the knowledge that things were going smoothly, his well constructed plan blew up in his face. The warehouse door screeched loudly and gave way under the hands that jerked and tugged it completely open.

"What the…?" Joachim jerked his gun from his waistband and fired without looking to see who he was shooting.

Raul dashed for the cover of some old shipping crates that were left stacked against the wall, firing his gun as he ran.

Isabella screamed and dropped to the floor, her hands covering her head as though that would be adequate protection from the bullets that careened back and forth over her head.

"Damn it all!" Frank cursed. "Who the hell is that?"

"I can't see well enough, Frank." Ryan scrambled across the catwalk trying to find a better view of the newcomers but stopped when he felt rusting metal crumble beneath his feet. Too late he jumped back in an effort to regain solid footing on the flimsy grating that supported him.

"Oh shit!" he cried out as he plummeted downward toward the floor below.

The collapsing catwalk drew the attention of those on the floor and they began firing at the falling CSI. By some miracle of physics and momentum he made it all the way to the floor without taking a single hit. He bounced once, rolled and came up firing his 9mill. His first bullet struck Joachim in the right flank, spinning him around and dropping him in his tracks. His second shot sent the newcomers scrambling for cover behind the same shipping crates that hid Raul.

As this scene transpired Frank was frantically shouting into his phone.

"Send SWAT in NOW! And send me a bus. Officer down!"

He loped over toward the closest stack of lumber and discarded building supplies and began laying down cover fire for Ryan who was trying to crawl to safety

"Wolfe, you okay?" He bellowed over the cacophony of gunfire.

"Never better, Frank." Ryan sassed, and then groaned and lay still as a bullet struck him in the leg.

"Ryan!" there was no answer from the downed CSI.

"I need that bus, quick!" Frank yelled into his phone just as the blessed sound of sirens overpowered the rattling of gunfire.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Familiar black SWAT uniforms began swarming through the partially open door of the warehouse and Frank took the opportunity to scramble from behind his stack of lumber toward the downed form of Ryan Wolfe. The young CSI lay quiet and unmoving, face down on the floor with an ominous pool of blood spreading from under his right thigh. Ignoring the still lethal hail of bullets that whizzed about his head, Frank grabbed the unconscious Ryan by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back toward the stack of boards that had afforded him at least some protection from the deadly firefight now being waged between SWAT and the Noche members.

Once back to relative safety, Frank lowered Ryan to the floor as gently as possible and swiftly closed one big hand over the gaping hole in his thigh, placing firm pressure over the wound to stem the flow of blood. Judging from the steady stream of crimson, Frank realized that the femoral artery must have been hit, perhaps severed. If rescue didn't show soon, this might well be the last call out for Ryan Wolfe. Frank doggedly shook his head 'no' at that thought. He and the young CSI had a long running, well-known avoidance of each other, but he would hate to see the young man lost to a Noche bullet.

"Stay with me Wolfe." He growled. "Rescue will be here as soon as SWAT cleans out the vermin." A soft groan met his comment.

"Wolfe…Wolfe…" Frank hovered over the injured man, straining to hear.

Another soft murmur of pain reached his ears and he gripped Ryan's hand tightly.

"Hang on, Ryan. I'll never forgive you if you die on me. Come on, man. Stay with me."

"…_not going to die... you smartass…" _came the barely audible retort, and Frank had to smile. Even injured, Ryan was being snarky.

The cacophony of sound eased and Frank realized that the only shots still being fired were from the SWAT members who were herding the Noche thugs into a far corner of the warehouse. Finally the shots stopped altogether and he heard the team leader shout out to the surviving Noches, "You are surrounded and outnumbered! Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands in the air, SLOWLY!"

As much as he wanted to be in on the actual rounding up of these ruffians, Frank knew he should stay with Wolfe, so he remained where he was, watching the Noche gang members who hadn't been shot in the firefight, come stumbling out from behind the boxes and barrels that filled the corner of the warehouse.

Finally, a pair of medics made their way to his location and took charge of the injured CSI, leaving Frank the freedom to make his way over to the pitiful little circle of men seated in the center of the warehouse floor with their hands cuffed behind their backs. Isabella was cuffed as well and sat some distance away from the men. Joachim lay on his back, cursing in Spanish as a second pair of medics tended to his gunshot wound.

Frank stepped over to him and leveled a disgusted glare down at him. "Who crashed your party, Joachim?"

"You think I'll tell you?" he wheezed up at Frank, laboring to breathe.

"I think you'd better." Frank hissed.

"I ain't got nothin' to tell you, big man. You want info from me? Get a warrant."

Frank looked at the two medics. "Give me a minute guys."

He waited until the two paramedics had moved some distance away and then moved closer to the injured Joachim, deliberately placing himself between the Noche and them so their line of sight was blocked by his large bulk.

"You know, I don't need a warrant. All I need…" he placed his hand dangerously near the gunshot wound in Joachim's torso and pressed firmly.

An agonized groan spilled from the man's lips and he gasped in pain.

Frank continued. "All I need is a little pressure in the right place and you'll talk till morning."

"Oh god…" Joachim writhed in pain. "Okay…Okay…It was Hector. Hector was supposed… ahhh! You're killin' me man… Hector was supposed to take out Kendrix so he wouldn't talk."

Frank moved his hand away from Joachim's side and smiled down at him. "Now see there. That wasn't hard was it? Which one is Hector?"

Joachim rolled his head to the side and looked at the group of gang members. After a second or two of searching he pointed weakly in the direction of one of the men. "He's…he's the one with the torn ear."

"The better to hear you with my dear…" Frank muttered. He turned and walked away from Joachim.

"He's all yours, men," he commented to the waiting medics as he headed toward the circle of men.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Calleigh lay in bed fuming at the injury that had consigned her to a hospital bed. Once she even tossed her head indignantly against the pillow and instantly regreted it. A wave of pain crashed through her skull and she moaned softly as white lights exploded behind her tightly closed eyes. She lay there panting, holding herself perfectly still, waiting for the room to stop spinning and the nausea to subside.

"Next time, you'll be more careful won't you baby?" Alexx' voice came from just above her head and Calleigh willed open her eyes to find her friend looking down at her with an amused expression on her face.

"Damn this concussion," she fussed up at Alexx, who clucked her tongue at her young charge.

"Well, it could have been worse. You could have a fracture. As it is, you'll be out of here in another day or so...that is if you do what I tell you to. Now, I suspect you're dying to find out how everyone else is doing."

"Yeah, I am." Calleigh said and braved a smile.

"Natalia is doing fine and will be home in another two or three days. Horatio is just fine. No further injuries to him. He's just dealing with extremely elevated bloodpressure after watching you and Natalmost get killed by that crazy Noche doctor."

"What happened Alexx? I don't remember much after Cromewell came into the room."

"Well the good doctor..." Alexx' voice dripped sarcasm "...the good doctor came in with a syringe meant to kill Horatio. He didn't plan on all of us being in the room when he showed up. When his plan started to unravel, he grabbed the first weapon of opportunity he saw which happened to be Tristan's service weapon. Before any of us could react, he shot Nat, cracked you over the skull and would have shot me, but Horatio got him first."

"Horatio shot him? How?" Calleigh's voice was incredulous.

"How else, baby? He used his left hand. And a damned good shot it was too. Put that bullet square between the eyes."

Alexx busied herself with checking Calleigh's vitals, and fluffing her pillow as she talked.

"You know. I think it might have been seeing you injured that forced Horatio's hand...so to speak. He had no other choice if he wanted to protect you."

Alexx winked at the restless blonde. "That crack on your head may have been just what he need to jolt him into proving to himself that life will go on even without full use of his right hand."

Calleigh sighed tiredly and closed her eyes, speaking again without looking. "Well I'll gladly take a little crack on the head if it helps him."

Alexx leaned over and placed a quick kiss on Calleigh's forehead. "I know baby. I know. Now rest. I'll be back in a bit, and if you behave, I'll see what I can do about having you moved into Horatio's room."

"You're a love, Alexx." Calleigh said softly.

"So I've been told," Alexx grinned and slipped out the door.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

**A/N I owe everyone an apology for letting this story go begging for almost 6 months. Unconscionable of me, and I sincerely apologize. In its original form, the fic was only 4 chapters long and it just never felt complete to me as it was. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that it would extend for 30 plus chapters when I set out to "complete" an unfinished story. What a trick Athena played on me. **

**Long missive short, (too late, I know) I will do my very best to conclude this story by chapter 40 if not sooner. **

**Again, my sincere apologies for letting this one go for so long.**

**Lieutenant Caine**

True to her word, Alexx strong-armed several people and within the hour an intern eager to make good with the senior staff was seen wheeling a bed down the hall toward Horatio's room. By time for evening rounds, the recovering head of CSI and his feisty ballistics expert were together which suited them perfectly. Frank and Eric were both visiting to check on the two injured lovers and to bring them up to speed on the events at the warehouse as well as to assure them that Ryan would be fine after some minor surgery to repair the bullet wound in his leg.

"Soooo… which one of you two twisted Alexx' arm to manage this "cell mate" arrangement?" Frank teased good-naturedly.

"It was all Alexx's idea Frank," Calleigh said with a smile. "Of course we didn't want to argue with the doctor's orders."

"You reckon?" Frank's grin lit up his face and Calleigh laughed delightedly.

If she had to be stuck in a hospital bed, at least she was with the love of her life and surrounded by close and dear friends.

"Seriously, Cal. We just wanted to stop in before clockin' out to let you two know that we've almost got this Noche thing all tied off. The remaining gang members are on ice down at PD. Kendrix is still in protective custody at the moment. We're trying to save his sorry ass so he can testify against the Noches at a later date."

"Would serve him right to end up with a Noche bullet in his head," Eric chimed in.

"We are supposed to be the good guys, brother," Horatio reminded Eric gently, leveling a look of gentle reprimand at his young CSI.

"I know H, but after all they've done to this team and all the damage Kendrix caused by his double-agent tricks, I can't help the way I feel. It would serve him right, plain and simple."

"Yes, well. Best if you keep that opinion to yourself, Eric. The wrong person hears that, and we are on thin ice with the department."

"Understood, H. I won't mention it again." Eric stretched and muffled a yawn before standing up from his chair.

"I think I'm going to head home for the evening."

He stepped between the two beds and looked down at his two friends, reaching to shake hands firmly with Horatio and then leaning down for a soft kiss on Calleigh's forehead.

"You two try to get some **sleep**, eh?"

The emphasis he placed on the word sleep and the wink he gave Calleigh sent gorgeous color flying into her cheeks and she dropped her eyes demurely before giving him a sassy wink in return.

"See you guys later."

The door closed behind Eric and Frank was left alone with the two people on the team for whom he would have taken an entire barrage of Noche bullets if it would have meant keeping them from their current situation. It was hard to imagine them slowed down by anything, and seeing them immobile was an affront to his feelings. He found it difficult to speak around the lump that formed in his throat.

Calleigh, ever the sensitive one of the team, recognized his discomfort and reached out a hand toward him. Frank caught her tiny hand in his, and looking first at Horatio for permission and understanding, he lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of her hand softly before releasing it again.

"I'm so glad you're both gonna be okay," His voice was more gruff than usual, evidence of just how close his emotions were to the surface of that thick Texas hide of his.

"Thank you, Francis. I appreciate the words and the feeling behind them." Horatio too felt the unspoken strength of their friendship.

Frank drew a tissue from the box by Calleigh's bed and blew his nose with a loud honk. When he finished, he looked back at them and smiled slightly.

"Guess I better be goin' too, so ya'll can get some rest."

"Thanks for coming in, Frank. Glad to know that everything is under control at HQ."

"Good night, Frank." Calleigh's soft voice held a wealth of gratitude that put mist in the big man's eyes.

"G'night, Cal…H. Talk to you in the morning."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hernan Ortega sat at the table in the middle of the prison cafeteria, scowling over the news that had trickled down to him from his spies. The traitor Kendrix had made the mistake of going to the police about his involvement with the Noches. Orteg's knuckles went white with fury as he clenched his fists and pounded them on the surface of the unfeeling metal.

"That's the last mistake he'll ever make," Ortega snarled out to his second in command. "I want him capped by the end of the week. Five grand to the Noche that brings me word he's dead."

"He'll be dead before then, jefe, if I have anything to do with it," the Noche thug answered.

Unseen by both of them, a pair of soft brown eyes filled with regret watched from the partly closed kitchen door.

The conversation between Ortega and his lieutenant waned and the other man stood up to leave.

"Buenas noches, Jefe."

"Mas tarde." Ortega answered.

Quiet settled into the cafeteria with the man's departure and Ortega put his head down for a moment in a rare display of tiredness. The soft sound of slipper-shod feet approaching from behind him brought his head back up like a shot and he tensed for a fight until he saw Manolo standing there.

"Good way to get a blade in your gut, hermano," he growled. "What did I tell you about sneaking up on me like that? Damn you are an idiot sometimes."

Ortega turned back around and put his head back down on the table, resting it on his folded arms. This time he never moved when he heard Manolo shuffle closer to him. Ironically, it was the last mistake _he_ would ever make. Manolo, with tears streaming down his leathery face, slid one arm around his brother's neck from behind, jerked him upright in an iron grip that belied his advancing years and with the shank he'd created days before, he slit Ortega's throat from ear to ear. The cut was made so that Ortega would bleed out into his own throat, and he was almost dead before the blade stopped severing muscle and bone.

"Forgive me, hermano," Manolo whispered softly, laying his brother's head back down on the table. "Forgive me."

Manolo stood looking down at his brother for several moments before pocketing the shank and shuffling away into the darkness. It would be hours before his brother's body was found and by then he, Manolo would be dead too. Beyond a strong sense of familial connection that at one time might have been an emotion closely akin to love, Manolo felt no regret for killing his brother. Hernan had become everything that Manolo hated, everything that they had both fled the old country to escape.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Manolo sat on the edge of his bunk, holding the shank in one hand and a worn copy of a Spanish Bible in the other. He'd said the Rosary and had made his peace with the Saints and was as ready as he would ever be to join his mother and brother in death. Carefully he laid the Bible on the bed beside his pillow. Then he methodically rolled up his left sleeve, creasing the material neatly. For one long moment he stared at the exposed veins in his arm and then slowly pressed the blade of the shank against his skin. A thin well of crimson sprang up beneath the pressure and increased as Manolo deliberately drew the sharp metal along his arm lengthwise. Ignoring the white hot pain, he continued until his arm was riven from wrist to elbow. Trembling with agony, he then laid the shank down on the bed next to the Bible, stretched out on his bunk, closed his eyes and lay still.

TBC


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

**A/N First, this is not at all the way I ever envisioned this story ending. However, as some of my former and present readers have so "astutely" noted, sometimes the ending isn't always rosy and bright. Sometimes there are loose ends. Sometimes the hero bleeds. Sometimes the criminal walks on a technicality. Sometimes life happens. With that in mind, I give you the concluding chapter of Flashpoint along with a promise to myself and the readers as well, that I will do my very best never to try a story extension of this type again. Think of the story, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, and you'll understand how I feel about Flashpoint.**

Six weeks later…

Calleigh sat at the head of the conference table scanning the case files on Hernan Ortega and his brother Manolo. She shook her head ruefully and took a sip of her coffee, relishing the burn of the sweet liquid as it slid down her throat. Across the table the rest of the team watched her, admiration and respect showing in their eyes. In the welcomed "calm" after the storm of hellish events with the Noches, Calleigh had taken up the reins of the team in Horatio's stead and had proven herself many times over. Everyone accepted what they thought was the temporary change of leadership and gave her the same energy and cooperation that had been given to Horatio when he was in charge.

Horatio himself sat at the end of the table watching his ballistics expert expertly handle the responsibilities that he had once so capably dealt with himself. He had not yet been given a full medical release and was desk bound by Alexx's orders. The restriction gnawed at him, but he deferred to the wisdom of his friend, knowing that her orders were founded on solid medical reason. He was simply not ready to return to full active duty status. Hours of grueling therapy had indeed restored Horatio's right hand to functioning capacity, but true to Alexx's prediction, the hand was stiff and uncooperative at best. His 9mil now rested snuggly against his left side and he was observed to frequently touch it as though reacquainting himself with the presence of the matte-black weapon that had once been a simple extension of his right arm. The jet black cane that rested against the arm of his chair was the most hated reminder of his injuries. Even after healing, his ankle was suspect and had more than once almost sent him toppling to the floor, thus requiring the aid of the walking cane. And then there were the invisible wounds.

Of the team, only Calleigh knew just how much the incident had affected Horatio mentally. She alone knew the nights he had lain in bed cursing the stream of life that had swept him so far from the course he had set for himself. She alone had seen the edges of his once formidable resolve and drive crumble bit by bit; leaving the man once feared by the underworld of Miami a far cry from what he had once been. His injuries had taken more than just physical strength from his body; they had dulled the edge required for an officer on the front lines. Time and effort would restore him, but the unseen mental and emotional scars would forever remain, silent testimony to the events set in motion by one Mala Noche bomb.

Looking across the table at the man she loved with all her heart, Calleigh smiled sadly and stood up to conclude the meeting with an announcement. The words shattered her heart, but she had practiced them a hundred times already, looking into Horatio's bathroom mirror before ever coming to work that morning, so she showed very little sign of the pain that lanced through her with every word.

"Eric, Nat, Frank, Ryan…we've been through hell and back these last several weeks. None of us escaped unscathed. We've been wounded, battered, and scarred but not beaten. We are recovering..." The unspoken "but" at the end of that sentence sent more than one heart into more than one throat.

"It's going to take more than just physical therapy to heal all the wounds from this little brush with the Noches." A chorus of agreement met that statement and Calleigh waited for the hubbub to ebb before she continued.

"Two things. First, and foremost, I am taking command of the team, permanently and at Horatio's request. Second, Horatio and I are both taking a sabbatical, beginning next week. Eric, you will be in charge, Ryan, you and Nat second him. Frank, I'm tasking you with keeping this bunch in line. We'll be in touch, but we won't be in Miami. Frank, we'll leave the details with you and trust your discretion at using them. Now…any questions?"

Stunned silence answered Calleigh's query and she had to smile at the looks of absolute disbelief that sat on every face. Finally, Nat broke through the stillness with a softly worded "How long?"

"Two months, Ms. Boa Vista." Horatio's voice from the far end of the table startled everyone and all heads turned in his direction.

Horatio rose from his chair and slowly made his way to the head of the table to stand beside Calleigh.

"We will be gone for two months." Looking into the eyes of the people he trusted most in the entire world, Horatio continued in voice deeply graveled by the lingering after effects of smoke inhalation.

"Conventional wisdom says that I should get back up on the horse that threw me, but I think this team knows I fell a long way, and even though I am healing physically, there are other issues at stake. We WILL be back, but when we are, Calleigh will be the head of this team. Let me make that very clear. She is your leader now, and I am her second in command. Very little will be different. I trust this team will continue in the same fashion as you always have…with hard work, dedication and the same loyalty for Calleigh as you've given me over the past 10 years."

Horatio waited for a moment before continuing. "Now if there are no more questions, Calleigh and I have a plane to catch. Frank if you'll come with us to my office, we will fill you in on everything you need to know."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Horatio leaned back in his seat and looked over at Calleigh. She sat staring out the window of the plane, lost in her own private thoughts.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he said quietly, caressing the back of her hand.

"I don't know if they're worth a penny, Handsome."

"They're worth everything to me, Sweetheart."

Calleigh turned to look at Horatio and sighed softly. "I'm worried about you, love. First the bomb, and now giving up the team. I know we talked about it at length, but I'm afraid it will completely destroy you, and I wouldn't be able to deal with that."

"Calleigh, Calleigh. I haven't given up the team. I'll still be there. I just won't be calling the shots any more. You will, and I'll be with you every step of the way."

"I know, but still…"

"Shhh. No more worries. This change would have happened anyway; the bomb just sped up the timetable. We've made our decision. And it's the best one for the foreseeable future."

Calleigh looked into Horatio's eyes, searching for the reassurance she needed. At last she nodded. "I guess you're right."

"That's my girl. Now you'd better get some rest. It's a long way to Hawaii."

FIN

**A/N To those of you dissatisfied with this ending, I apologize. However, it had to come to an end, even if that ending wasn't the neatly tied off stuff of fairy tales. **

**Thank you to all who read, reviewed, favorited and followed this story. Your reviews, etc. are what keep me going.**

**Lieutenant Caine**


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